A Lost Child and the World Outside
by jensen.rr
Summary: 20 years after the war 11 year old Myles escapes an Orphanage that, as far as anyone else is aware, does not exist and ventures into the magical world of Britain where he will meet friends and mentors, and find himself the target of dangerous enemies. Next Gen/Slightly Different AU/First year.
1. Chapter 1: Out of the Orphanage

**Chapter 1: Out of the Orphanage**

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A/N: (Edit, though mostly for this note) Post-war Hogwarts fic headed by original characters. Realistic, or at least much more realistic than most first-year fics, where all of the first-years are able to cast fourth year spells, but still generally ahead of the cannon power curve for explained reasons/talented pupils.

Many of the other children are taken from the canon family tree, but their personalities/House are often different. No bashing, or at least not yet. No pairings, not with 11 year old characters. The Orphanage likely seems a bit of a stretch for a premise but it will, eventually, be explained.

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Myles had spent nearly every waking hour for the past three days staring at this wall. The plain white wallpaper stared relentlessly back at him, refusing to betray any of the secrets it held in the six months since he had begun to study it in earnest.

Sometimes, after long mind numbing hours sitting here, he thought he could see, or maybe feel, wisps if something inside it but whenever he focused on it the sensation disappeared.

Now he was running out of time; he was due to _graduate_ on the Caretaker's next visit. He was supposed to be in bed right now and the other kids would notice his absence. They wouldn't care though, only Livian ever had and she had _graduated_ almost a year ago.

Myles's breakthrough with the wall seemed to come suddenly. He was running his homemade wand, which had proved to work in a very unreliable fashion, over the wall where he had seen the Caretaker tap it from a hiding spot in the closet when he began to feel the wisps of magic again.

They seemed to bend and fluctuate to the motions of his wand and he focused the transient sensation instantly, seizing his chance before it disappeared. There was a strand of it that seemed particle responsive and Myles moved his wand directly over it and tapped on the wall while he instinctively pulled on it through his wand.

The wall before him folded onto itself, collapsing to reveal a well-lit yet dirty alley before him. He stepped through in a daze to realize that the alley wasn't lit and it was heavily shaded from the daylight above. Stepping from night to day somehow felt even odder than the neatly collapsing wall.

He walked through the alley with a great deal of excitement and wonder, tempered but not beaten by fear and apprehension. The end of it lead to a street filled with foreboding and intimidating shops, some with solidly if not pleasantly constructed buildings and others made in imitation of a rundown shack. A small number of pedestrians walked the streets, none of whom seemed particularly nice or clean. They gave him odd, unnerving looks as they passed him but he had. He saw a street sign that named this place "Knockturn Alley."

Myles hadn't thought much about what would happen if he got past the wall. That obstacle in his path had taken up all of his attention and now that he was past it he had only one goal - to find Livian - and no idea how to accomplish it. Livian and him had managed to work small bits of magic using their blood and Myles had gotten even further than that with his wand, but he had only ever worked with material things: lifting small objects, unlocking doors, or one time coloring their hair purple. Using magic to find someone was abstract and immaterial; Myles wouldn't even know how to start. He needed

Myles walked down the street, doing his best to avoid attention when a girl his age exited the shop in front of him. She seemed to belong on the street even less than he did, at least his old worn black robes fit in with the clothing that most of the wizards walking down this alley. The girl, who looked to be his age, wore bright and clean violet robes that matched her eyes and pure white hair. She should have stood out like a store thumb amongst the dark,dreary, and dangerous walking through the alley yet no one so much as glanced at her.

Her eyes caught his as she stepped out of the shop, a place that managed to be both foreboding and alluring with its darkly lit interior and odd assortment of displayed items. "Borgin & Burkes" was engraved above the door and it didn't look like a shop for eleven year olds. He found the girl and her presence here curious, but it didn't have anything to do with him and he quickly looked away, putting his eyes to the ground and waiting for her to look away and ignore him. Myles didn't know what kind of trouble he would get into if people found out he had escaped the Orphanage but he'd rather not find out.

It did not work. She strode directly over to him so that he was forced to stop and look back up at her. His eyes caught at the starkness of her violet eyes, white hair, and pale skin. He stepped back as she came uncomfortably close, sticking her face just inches from his and looking all over his head as if she was looking for something.

"Are you the Muren boy?" she asked, finally stepping back to a respectable and mostly comfortable distance. Myles nodded; he had no idea who the Muren boy was but he hoped that she would just take his answer and leave.

"Cecilia," she said, holding out her hand to shake. "Cecilia Lovegood-Eden." Myles shook her hand and, without knowing why, gave his own name in return. She smiled back at him in response, though he still found the way her searching eyes looked at him disconcerting.

You're here to get your stuff for Hogwarts then. I'm about to go buy my wand, are you here alone?" she asked.

Myles nodded again, hoping it would suffice. He had heard of Hogwarts, mentioned in one of the few texts they had in their library (which was more of a bookshelf), and knew it was the biggest wizarding school in Britain. He supposed this girl either attended the school or was going to attend in the near future. He wondered what it would be like, learning magic under the tutelage of professors with hundreds of other children.

"Well, come along then. Let's get back to Diagon Alley." Cecilia said, tugging his arm and dragging him along with her. Myles hadn't intended on meeting people so soon after figuring out the exit to the Orphanage, but he truly hadn't planned much of anything past that wall; he hadn't even known where it would take him. He supposed Cecilia didn't seem too dangerous, even if she was a very suspicious girl. He had heard of Hogwarts from passing mentions in the Orphanage books, but he had never heard of Diagon Alley where Cecilia was taking him.

"I can't wait to get my wand, the only thing my Father lets me practice with is this cheap and impotent ash and willow and, of course, underage magic laws mean I can't cast just anywhere." Cecilia said, showing her wand. Myles nodding along nearly clueless. He understood that ash and willow wands were weak, oddly enough there had been a wand making book on the Library bookshelf, but had no idea what the underage magic laws were.

"Do you have a wand already?" she asked and Myles actually responded with more than a nod this time, pulling out his homemade wand with no small amount of pride. It wasn't pretty, he had to admit, but it had gotten the job done.

"That thing?" Cecilia commented incredulously. "It's more of a wood splinter than a wand." Embarrassed, and a little hurt (more than he had any right to be), he moved to put his wand away but she grabbed his arm to stop him and leaned in to get a closer look at the wand.

"Wait," she said, her expression changing to one of interest, not dissimilar from the one she had had when she had inspected him from uncomfortably close when they met each other a few minutes ago. "Did you make this yourself?"

Myles nodded, his face still a little red, and, realizing he still hadn't said a word in conversation, replied. "Yeah."

"That's amazing," Cecilia said earnestly. "But you can't use a wand like this at school, aren't you going to buy one today? They say it's the most important thing you'll buy in your whole life."

Myles didn't know much about money, but he was aware enough of the concept to realize he had none. "I don't have any money."

That seemed to make Cecilia pause for the first time since he had met her, but then her eyes and the edge of her lips lit with mischief and she replied. "I'll help you then, just follow my lead."

Myles became immediately worried when Cecilia pulled a small knife out of her robes and only slightly less so when she nicked her own finger and put it away. "What are you doing?"

"Don't worry about it," she said. "Just smile and nod."

Myles began to wonder what he had gotten himself into by unlocking the wall and running into this girl, but the street turned and all of his attention was taken away. The alley Cecilia and him had been walking down had been getting more and more open as well as less shoddy but the street it opened into was breathtaking.

Brightly colored stores and wares lined the street, signs flashing and props performing a number of antics in order to draw attention. He saw a monkey dancing from a platform at a pet store labeled "Familiar Compendium", a child sized doll riding a broom back and forth in front of "Rodley's Quidditch Essentials", and a giant glass cauldron at display at "Power of Potions" that was a bubbling rainbow of ever changing colors. The wizards themselves that crowded the streets, more than Myles had ever really imagined in one place, were dressed in a variety of colors and styles. Some wore oddities such as talking hats on their heads or familiars on their shoulders, one woman he noticed wearing neon pink was going so far as to walk on magic stilts that made her four feet taller. Cecilia didn't look at the wonders before her, instead choosing to look at Myles slack jawed expression.

"Welcome," she said with a dramatic flourish. "To Diagon Alley."

Her introduction to the major hub of the wizarding community in Britain was made less dramatic by breaking down giggling immediately after she had made it. "Have you really never been here before? You should see your face."

Myles face tinged red again as he remembered to close his mouth but he couldn't bring himself to care much with the sights before him. His unashamed staring was broken by Cecilia pulling him forward once again.

"C'mon, we have to go. My Father might be looking for me already." Myles, overwhelmed by the spectacle around him, let Cecilia drag him through the crowd. They stopped in front of a pet store just as a pale man who looked a bit like Cecilia and wore finely made and tailored robes arrived.

Cecilia's demeanor changed completely as the man caught sight of them, changing into a girl nearly unrecognizable from the one he had met in Knockturn Alley. "Daddy!" she exclaimed, pulling Myles along with her until she was close enough to embrace her father.

"You should have... I got.. It was scary…" she said in a breathless rush that continued too fast to be understood. Myles caught the words "attacked", "saved", and "friend" from it but little else.

"Slow down darling, take a deep breath." the man said in soft tones, crouching down to speak with his daughter. He waited a moment for Cecilia to calm herself. "Now tell me, what happened?"

Myles was amazed at her acting ability. With wide guileless eyes she explained how she took a wrong turn into a "very scary alley" where she was attacked by a wizard.

"Cecilia dear, are you sure he wasn't trying to sell you something? A lot of bad dealers sell things in alleys like that." Cecilia's father replied patiently.

"Oh." Ceclia said, her eyes downcast in a perfect picture of innocent embarrassment. "Maybe. I don't know. I was so scared."

She lifted her eyes back to her father's as excitement edged back into her voice. "But Daddy, Myles here saw me in trouble and ran right to save me, like a real hero and I was so grateful I offered him a life debt…"

"YOU WHAT?" Cecilia's father exclaimed, cutting off his daughter. "Don't tell me you swore the oath."

Cecilia seemed to wilter before her father. "Daddy… I thought it was proper, I swore it on blood." She held up the finger she had cut earlier.

Her father put his head down and massaged his temples, clearly perplexed with his daughter and the situation she had gotten herself into. When he rose his expression was calm and controlled and he stepped towards Myles, resting one hand on his daughter's back and holding out his other hand to Myles.

"Tenan Eden." Myles shook the offered hand, giving only his first name in return (he didn't have a last name to give in the first place).

"What do you request in fulfillment for the life oath?" Cecilia's father, Mr. Eden, asked Myles formally, a distrustful and disparaging (Myles robes weren't new or nice)

"Oh Daddy, I said we could buy him a wand, he needs a new one for Hogwarts and we're going there now anyways!" Cecilia interjected, saving Myles from having to answer.

"Will that suffice as repayment?" Mr. Eden asked Myles, looking a bit relieved.

"Yes it will." Myles replied, feeling like he was required to do more than nod his assent.

"Then it is done." the man said, pulling out a slit of paper from his robes and pressing his wand to it before handing it to Cecilia.

"I'll walk you two to Olivander's while I go on my last errand. You will stay there. You will not leave until I come back to get you. Do you understand?" Mr. Eden said, looking directly at his daughter and handing her the slip of paper he had just enchanted.

Cecilia nodded earnestly. "Yes, daddy."

Olivanders did not look as impressive or showy as many of the shops he had seen in Diagon Alley but there was a weight to it that the others didn't. Something about the place felt important. The well dressed but slightly disheveled middle-aged man Myles saw through the window backed that impression, stating that the man had better things to do than tidy his hair and clothes.

"Behave yourself and wait for me to come pick you." Mr. Eden said to Cecilia before shooting Myles a distrustful glance and striding away.

Cecilia laughed once he had left. "What did you think? Should I go into acting?"

"You were amazing." Myles said honestly. "But why go through all of that? You really don't have to buy me a wand."

"A girl's gotta have her fun somehow." Cecilia pouted. "We're rich anyways, my mom improved the Floo system and my dad got a patent for it. Now money just comes in."

Myles knew a 'Floo system' was some sort of travel but he had no idea what a patent was. He decided to ask about the piece of paper Cecilia's father had handed her instead though.

"Oh, it's a check. You enchant it with your signature and the intended recipient, and the color enacts a galleon limit on the purchase." she said, holding it up so Myles could see her father's signature and line "Ollivander's Wand Shop" that designated the recipient, as well as the blank line where the money amount went and the Gringotts watermark behind it all.

They entered the shop then, where the man inspecting a wand at his desk greeted them.

"Welcome to Ollivander's. Buying wands today?" Cecilia and Myles nodded. "Who's first?"

"He is." Cecilia said instantly and the man, Mr. Ollivander, turned to inspect Myles. His eyes were piercing and their gaze uncomfortable, as if they were looking under his skin and seeing something even Myles didn't know was there. It was, he realized, almost the same as the way Cecilia had looked at him when they met.

Mr. Ollivander simply stared at him for several long moments before turning to the wall (which, like every upright surface in the store, was covered by stacks of rectangular boxes) to his side and climbing up a ladder that moved on its own to where the man intended to go. He pulled down a box and opened it, revealing the wand inside.

"Ebony, twelve and a quarter inches, dragon heartstring." he stated, handing it to Myles.

The floor shook as soon as his fingers touched the wood and he dropped it in startlement. Mr. Ollivander caught it before it fell to the ground and placed it back into its box with a detached and unsurprised remark. "Not quite."

This began a long and arduous process of breaking household items, fire, uncomfortably loud noises and bright lights all rooting from the ends of the wands Mr. Ollivander handed him. Some wands required a wave and others would cause something to combust by simply touching them. It was not a particularly comfortable process, each wand he touched gave his hand a shock, a couple of them even locking his fingers. Cecilia, however, had made herself comfortable sitting cross legged on the floor in the corner of the shop and seemed to be enjoying watching his repeated failures immensely, her watchful eyes serving only to make the situation even more uncomfortable.

Mr. Ollivander did not seem to mind the repeated failures. In fact, he simply became more and more interested and invested, containing the more explosive interactions between Myles and the wands with a wave of his own. After almost thirty wands the process slowed considerably, with Mr. Ollivander traveling further back into the shop and taking longer to return each time. The results however, proved no different and the man's eyes took on an obsessive glint.

"I'll have to see what my father thinks." he said, before heading into the back of the shop and returning a few minutes later with a much older, slower and wizened Mr. Ollivander. Myles was asked to hold some of the failed wands again, and then the two Ollivander's disappeared into the back of the store, conferring quietly with each other.

"Is it always like this?" Myles asked.

"No." Cecilia replied, looking inordinately pleased with herself. '_They're all bloody insane,' _Myles thought, tiring of being examined by both the Ollivanders and Cecilia. He really hoped the next wand they came out with worked. They returned however, not with another wand case, but levitating a large black chest in front of them.

"We have a number of… more unusual wands here, but understand some of them are pricier choices." the younger Ollivander stated, setting down and opening the chest.

"That's fine." Cecilia said from she sat in the corner, and Ollivander nodded and they proceed their wand testing.

Acacia, ienian spider silk sac, fourteen and a half inches. "Certainly not."

Snakewood, serpent horn, thirteen and three quarter inches. "Hmmm… perhaps."

Elm, thestral tailhair, twelve inches even. "No."

Blackthorn, chimera tail, ten and a half inches. "Not quite."

Walnut, sphinx brain cord, eleven and a quarter inches. "Not a match, questionable legality in any case."

Yew, unknown core, rumored to be the remnants of a dementor, thirteen and a quarter inches. This created an unearthly and haunting wail that left everyone reeling. "Definitely... definitely not."

The older Ollivander got a curious look on his face and reached deep into the chest, pulling out an old and simple wooden case. The younger Ollivander looked doubtful. "Father, there is no evidence that that wand even works."

"Nevertheless, no harm in trying," the older Ollivander said, opening the box to reveal the wand. "Married elder and yew, dual core of dragon heartstring of the extinct Lethian Occiden and an unknown substance, thirteen inches even."

Myles remembered from the wand making book in the Orphanage that only single core wands were functional, and it had never even mentioned wands made with multiple woods but he held out his hand to accept it. The wand was not split in half by its composite woods but rather made up of tightly woven spirals of the two woods, each sliver of the same wood so narrow that the wand didn't look to be made of different woods until seeing it up close.

As Myles fingers closed around the wand two chords sounded, as if from a piano yet strange and undefinable, from the wand's tip. They resonated deeply in the shop's wooden structure and held themselves distinct and separate. The first chord was louder and more powerful, low pitched and temperamental, nearly a growl in its tone. The second was not as loud but it felt more important somehow, depths of subtleties running in the fluctuations of its timbre.

The wand only made the noise for a couple of seconds, but the sound clung to the air and walls for long moments after the wand stopped, echoing lightly throughout the shop. The Ollivanders stared with unadulterated interest at Myles and the wand.

"A fine match indeed, Mr…?" the senior Ollivander probed.

"Myles." Myles replied, awkwardly answering with only his first name for the third time today.

"The last thought to wield that wand died nearly a millennium ago, before even the Interdict of Merlin. It may not be the wand of legend that the Elder wand is, but it may be even trickier to find a wizard it will allow to yield it. Most wandmakers think this twined wand is nothing more than a failed and erratic experiment." the senior Ollivander said.

Myles had no response to that and was relieved when Cecilia interjected. "Can I try that wand?" she asked, pointing to one of the cases in the pile of wands Myles had tried.

"Certainly," the younger Ollivander said, holding an expression that said he was going to indulge the clueless girl's request but that he had better things to do with his time. "It's one of the trickier wands though, few bond well with Acacia and even fewer, rumor says, bond with ienian silk sac."

"Acacia, ienian spider silk sac, thirteen and a half inches." he stated as he held out the wand, acting as if he hadn't just described the wand.

Cecilia took the wand, which looked almost rid with confidence and waved it imperiously to let loose a rainbow of color that chimed neatly as it transitioned from purple to blue to green to yellow and so on. She gave Myles a wink and looked rather pleased with herself as she observed the shocked looks on the Ollivander's faces.

"Most impressive Ms. Eden. I hope you'll consider an internship offer for next summer." the younger Ollivander said when he had recovered.

"I'll ask my Father about it." Cecilia replied, pulling out the piece of paper her father had given her. "How much will the wands cost?"

"I'm afraid I can't let the Twined wand go for less than twenty-five galleons, other wizards might not be able to use it but it's worth at least that much as an oddity. The acacia and ienian silk sac wand is also a rarity, but tricky enough that I can get rid of it for only twelve galleons." the younger Ollivander said. Cecilia returned to her act from earlier, her demeanor growing years younger in seconds.

"Oh," she said sadly. "My father's check only goes up to thirty galleons. I.."

Myles thought the act was rather obvious, but apparently the wide puppy eyes, artistically trailed off sentence, and nervous fingers tugging at the edged of her robes worked wonders on the Ollivanders.

"Well," the junior Ollivander said. "If the two of you were willing to add a visit over Christmas break into the bargain we could make that work."

"Really!?" Cecilia beamed. "We'd love to visit!"

Myles nodded along in agreement with Cecilia's enthusiastic reply, though he had no idea where he would be come Christmas time. She gave the Ollivanders her check and they exited the store with farewells.

"My father will be here soon if you want to wait with me. We'll only be going back home though, I already have my other school supplies." Cecilia said.

"I'll wait." Myles said, running his fingers over the wood of his new wand again and again, engaging himself in trying to feel out the extremely subtle changes in wood. "And Cecilia… thank you."

"Don't mention it." Cecilia smiled. "It was fun."

Myles realized he was dreading Cecilia's father's arrival. He hadn't had a friend since Livian had been taken from the Orphanage years ago and while he might find her knowing smiles (often more smirk than smile) and inspecting eyes a bit annoying, there was something captivating about Cecilia. The way she walked naturally through unfriendly alleys without drawing a glance, the way she introduced herself to a complete stranger and dragged him off to buy him a wand, the way she changed into a sweet wide-eyed girl when she wanted something from an adult.

"There he is." Cecilia said, spotting her father in the traffic. She rushed Miles and gave him a quick hug that he awkwardly returned. "Here's my address, don't hesitate to visit or owl. I'll see you at Hogwarts."

She flashed him a smile and handed him a slip of parchment before going to greet her father and Myles was alone once again. He slipped the paper next to his two wands in his pocket and a wave of exhaustion ran over him. It may be daytime here, but he had stayed up the whole night at the Orphanage before opening the wall.

Myles walked down Diagon Alley, taking in all of the colors, noise, and wares on display and hoping to find a place to sleep. His thoughts were drawn to how different Cecilia and Livian were.

Livian's eyes had always been unfocused, rarely making eye contact and giving off the impression she was never paying attention while Cecilia viewed everything that interested her through a magnifying glass.

Cecilia was well-dressed and presented, with her hair neatly arranged under a purple ribbon, neatly cared for nails, and wearing a couple pieces of jewelry. Livian had never done more than the minimum to keep up with hygiene at the Orphanage, much less care for her appearance. Her hair had been frayed and wild and she had managed to steal some of the older boys clothes before they graduated so she wore overly large and baggy clothes.

It was more than how they dressed however, Myles wouldn't call Cecilia's demeanor uptight but there was a sense of control about the way she presented herself, like she wouldn't let you see any more or less of herself than she wanted you to. Livian had always been relaxed, she didn't sit so much as lounge and she truly didn't care what others thought of her, she was content peacefully reading a book, laying upside down on a couch in the library while other kids made jokes at her expense.

For all their differences however, Myles thought the two girls were similar in some intangible fashion. Perhaps it was the way you could never really tell what was going on in their heads, or perhaps it was the way they decided on a goal and single mindedly chased it. Cecilia had decided that she was going to get Myles a wand and followed through without hesitating. It reminded him of Livian's determination to unlock the Caretaker's door to see how she came and went from the Orphanage.

Myles found the street quickly becoming deserted as he walked onwards. The display of bright and boisterous wares faded to for sale signs and deserted stores. The few shops that remained open this far down the Alley had fallen on hard times and scarce customers.

Myles, stifling a yawn, spotted an old shop that looked like it hadn't been touched in years and made his way towards it. He glanced around quickly to make sure no one was looking and approached the door. Myles pulled out his new wand and placed it's tip against the door. His old wand had been finicky when it came to unlocking doors (or doing any sort of magic really), but the lock clicked open neatly and he opened the door.

He stepped in the dusty and deserted shop, hoping that no one had bothered warding the entryway. It wasn't comfortable but he managed to find a tarp in the back and clump it into a pillow. Myles thought for a second about how little he knew about his situation - Were people looking for him for escaping the Orphanage? What was he going to eat? How would he learn magic to help him find Livian? Could he trust anyone? Could he trust Cecilia - and a thousand other questions before he laid his head down and immediately fell asleep.

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Excerpt from "Magical Abilities: From Anamagi to Zyntralists" by Goren Beesot:

"Magic Sight, named primarily for its poetic sound as it typically does not coalesce itself visually, is a sixth sense for magic experienced magic users develop by testing subtle resonates between their magical cores and ambient magic. Even the most well constructed spells leak magic, and a wizard with well developed magical sight can sense the "shape" or construction of the cast spell.

Most wizards never develop a sensitive magical sight as daily routines, rote magic, and normal locations do little for its development. Life and death (or similarly high pressure scenarios) involving magic, performing or close proximity to experimental and/or high powered magics, and places of great magical power can greatly accelerate the development of magical sight (e.g Hogwarts of the Department of Mysteries). For these reasons Aurors, talented professors, and particularly Unspeakables tend to have very well developed Magic Sight.

Rare and extremely talented wizards have been known to acquire early Magic Sight at a young age. Generational talent such as Albus Dumbledore, Baba Yaga, and Grindelwald all had notable skill in the field by only their third year."


	2. Chapter 2: A Place to Stay

**Chapter 2: A Place to Stay**

Myles woke at dawn to a rumbling stomach and a slightly stiff neck. He had rolled off of the tarp in the night and slept flat on the wooden planks of the floor. He rose and headed out the door.

It was his first day of freedom and it was time to find answers to some of his questions and hopefully some food. Knowing you needed money to buy food or books Myles decided to try to get a job. It might put him in danger if people were looking for him, but stealing food and books would hardly be inconspicuous.

The Alley outside was even more deserted in the early hours of the morning and he made his way back towards the busier streets, where he thought his quest for a job would be more successful. It was early enough that the Alley was lit more by street lamps than by the sun, and most of the shops were closed.

When he decided he was close enough to the busy portion of the Alley to begin his search he knocked on the first door to his right, a restaurant of sorts titled "Hungry Hippogriffs."

"We're not open yet," a burly voice yelled from inside.

"I'm looking for a job," Myles replied, thinking this wasn't going so very well.

The door abruptly opened before him and the man looked dismissively down at him before saying "Bugger off kid" and slamming the door shut. Myles shook off his failure and tried again, and again, and again, and again. Some of the shop owners and workers had been kinder, and some even ruder than the first but none of them had even considered him for work.

After his fifteen attempt he was beginning to doubt his chances but decided he would try one more shop. The shop in his quest was titled "Beth's Potions & Healing" with a description underneath the main sign stating "Cures for Ailments, Injures, & Injury Alike."

Unlike most of the other shops in the Alley at this hour it was open and accepting customers, though Myles didn't see any in the shop at the moment. A light but very clear sounding bell rang off as he opened the door and he entered the shop. The store was much smaller than the first restaurant she had tried, no more than twelve feet wide, but it was packed from floor to ceiling to make up for it. Potted plants hung overhead, giving off a pleasant aroma yet simple aroma that made Myles instantly like the shop. The shelves were packed with a variety of goods, auto tightening bandages, skin care treatments, and a large number of potions with different names.

"Come on back." a woman's voice called out. Myles walked around the shelves to see a wide desk and a simply dressed and comely young woman sitting behind it.

"What can I do for you dear?" she asked.

"I'm looking for work." Myles replied.

"Oh, really?" the woman said with amusement. "What are your skills young man?"

"I can read and write, do algebra and some arithmetic calculations, clean, and…" Myles didn't really know what he could that would be of use to the woman, "Follow instructions," he finished lamely.

"And how much do you charge for a day of work?" the woman asked, clearly not taking him entirely seriously but still far more receptive than the other shop owners.

"Uhm…" Myles had seen a sign yesterday selling supreme deluxe sundaes for three Sickles. He had no intention of buying sundaes but he figured he would need to make more than a sundae cost if he was going to feed himself and buy books. "Ten Sickles."

"Well that's a steal." the woman said with a kind smile. "I could use an assistant." She stood up and extended her hand to Myles. "Mrs. Lenore."

"Myles." he replied as he shook her hand. He had considered using a fake name, maybe even Muren, but something about the woman convinced him to tell the truth.

Mrs. Lenore owned and ran Beth's Cures by herself. Beth's, named for Mrs. Lenore's grandmother, was a walk-in clinic that dealt with all kinds of illness and injury. It rarely got patients with serious afflictions except when they were too poor to afford St. Mungo's and specialized in the "more discretionary medicines and treatments" as well as performing general treatment for Lower Alley dwellers who were too poor to go to St. Mungo's. Mrs. Lenore also did house calls, implying that that was where much of the store's income came from.

She was hiring Myles to look after the shop when she went on house calls and to help manage inventory, mail orders, and other tasks that didn't require expertise or magical ability. Myles quickly picked the basics of running the shop and customers began as morning came into a respectable hour customers began coming in.

Mrs. Lenore dealt with her customers with kindness and a capable professionalism that Myles admired. When she went on house calls Myles minded the desk, asking people who came for immediate assistance to wait and noting down special orders (Mrs. Lenore made custom healing potions for those with allergies or other complications that made the standard for their ailment unusable).

Myles found watching Mrs. Lenore make potions or cast healing spells fascinating and while he never asked about what she was doing because he didn't want to bother her, she noticed the interest he showed in her work and began to explain what she did and why. He didn't understand much of it but was certain he could learn to.

He was sent to go buy ingredients at the local apothecary at midday. The streets that had been deserted in the early morning were once again bustling with traffic, though Beth's was a distance away from the busiest area of Diagon Alley. Myles made his way to Mr Mulpepper's Apothecary and filled a bag with dittany, knotgrass, mandrake leaf, and a variety of other ingredients before presenting his bag and Mrs. Lenore's check to the clerk. She gave him a speculative look, but accepted the check and waved him on.

Beth's held the aroma of hot food when he returned and his grumbling stomach reminded him how hungry he was. He pushed the sensation down, reminding himself he would be able to eat when Beth's closed and walked to the back of the shop.

"Myles!" Mrs. Lenore called. "A friend of mine brought us lunch. Set down the ingredients and eat, you can log them and put them away later."

Myles eagerly set the bag down and began to dig into the pile of sandwiches on the table. They were delicious: mayonnaise, mustard, cheese, and meat melted delightfully in his mouth. He had never gone hungry in the Orphanage, but neither had the food there ever been particularly tasty. He was too hungry to care about appearances as he practically shoved food into his mouth, but he did notice the concerned and thoughtful look Mrs. Lenore was giving him.

He worried that she would pry and force him to lie, but she kept her distance. Myles didn't miss the careful way she treated him as if he was a startled rabbit she was trying not to scare away.

"Where are you sleeping Myles?" Mrs. Lenore asked, having decided she would risk the question.

"At home." Myles replied, not looking Mrs. Lenore in eyes. He had never lied to Livian and had hardly ever talked to the other kids except to exchange insults and didn't feel comfortable doing so now.

"Of course." Mrs. Lenore answered in a perfectly neutral tone. In what was surely a coincidence she walked into the storage room and pulled out a pillow and a blanket which she placed in the corner of the desk room.

The shop closed at four and Mrs. Lenore counted out his wages for the day - 10 sickles and asked, "Would you like to go get ice cream with me Myles?"

"Yes, very much Mrs. Lenore." Myles responded a bit excitedly. He had never tried ice cream before and the advertisements had piqued his interest.

"Let's head out then." Mrs. Lenore said with a smile. She beckoned him out the front door and locked it behind her. They didn't talk as they walked to Florean's Icecream Parlor, both of them comfortable with silence and neither sure what to say. The line there was long but it moved, benefits of having a wizard serving the ice cream.

Myles was overwhelmed by the menu posted over the counter. He hadn't imagined there could be so many different flavors and so many ways to arrange ice cream with other treats.

"What are you going to order?" Mrs. Lenore asked.

"I have no idea," Myles said honestly. "What do you recommend?"

"I heard the banana split sundae on the poster outside is amazing. Would you like split one?"

"That would be perfect." Myles grinned wide and his facial muscles didn't relax throughout their wait in line.

"Jay! It's been too long. That tincture of yours worked wonders, even St. Mungo's couldn't relieve the pain like that." The clerk and shop owner, judging by his name tag (OWNER: Alfred Florean) said in friendly tones to Mrs. Lenore. "Is he family?" He gestured to Myles.

"My assistant, and the longer you stay away from me means the longer you're healthy."

"Or maybe you just aren't getting enough ice cream!" Mr. Florean quipped, prompting a small laugh from Mrs. Lenore which Mr. Florean seemed very pleased about. "So what can I serve the two of you? It's on the house."

"Oh, no Alf. You know I couldn't."

"Nonsense." Mr. Florean said adamantly. "What will you have?"

Mrs. Lenore reluctantly acquiesced, ordering the banana split and saying thank you too many times. Mr. Florean set the confection in order with a flourish of his wand, and Myles watched interestedly as different varieties of ice cream made their way to the wide bowl along with a banana that unpeeled itself and a drizzle of fudge.

They took a seat inside and began to dig in. Myles had expected to enjoy the ice cream, but he hadn't imagined it would be _so good_. There were a variety of flavors stuffed into the treat, each of them delicious as the last: chocolate, vanilla, strawberry, buttermilk, roasted blueberry swirl, and others that he couldn't identify because he stopped asking Mrs. Lenore about each flavor and just enjoyed them.

While Myles dug in, Mrs. Lenore ate in a conserved and relaxed fashion, watching her new assistant with the same careful gaze she reserved for her more troublesome patients. Even with Myles's enthusiastic attempts, they didn't come near finishing the bowl - it was simply too much and while Mrs. Lenore certainly enjoyed the ice cream, she wasn't stuffing her face by any means.

Myles, his attention focused completely on the flavors in his mouth, failed to notice people gathering in and around the parlor and realized their attention was focused on a family currently sitting in the corner of the shop.

They did not seem to be enjoying the attention. The father, a man Myles found formidable though he couldn't say why, sat tense in his seat and held his ice cream cone with a grip that Myles was surprised didn't break it. The others didn't seem quite as bothered: the mother looked slightly uncomfortable but otherwise unbothered and the youngest and oldest children didn't seem to mind at all while the middle child looked rather embarrassed.

"Who are they?" Myles asked, noticing that Mrs. Lenore wasn't bothering to stare at the family.

"The Potters." Mrs. Lenore answered, and looked surprised at Myles's blank face. "You know, Harry Potter." Myles still had no clue what she was talking about and she continued confused. "He defeated You-Know-Who in the war."

"You-Know-Who?" Myles thought that was a terrible title for a wizard, was he expected to know who?

Ms. Lenore was confused with Myles's lack of knowledge but uncomfortable with the subject and decided to steer their conversation in a different direction. "How old are you Myles?"

"Eleven." The general consensus at the Orphanage was that you graduated at eleven, and Myles had been due to graduate on the Caretaker's next visit.

"So you'll be going to Hogwarts in a few weeks." Mrs. Lenore stated. "Come on, I'll introduce you." Myles was beginning to worry about the Hogwarts assumption, he would have to deal with it somehow.

"Hello Harry, Ginny. Here for Hogwarts supplies?" Mrs. Lenore greeted the two parents as she lead Myles to the table

"Oh, hello Jay," Mr. Potter said, relaxing when he realized it was not the press or some fan who wanted an autograph. "It's been years. I hear you are running a clinic now?"

"Yes, just a few minutes from here." Mrs. Lenore replied. "I'm doing alright."

"Is this your son?" Mrs. Potter asked, smiling kindly at Myles, who felt uncomfortable under all the attention (everyone in the parlor was looking at the Potters and him by association).

"My assistant," Mrs. Lenore ignored the odd looks the Potters gave her at having an eleven year old assistant. "He'll be heading to Hogwarts soon so I thought I'd introduce him to some other students, I think Albus is going into his first year as well?"

"Yes he is," Mrs. Potter said smiling. "James here is going into his third year and Lily will be attending in a couple of years. Say hello boys, Lilly."

The adults talked and he introduced himself awkwardly to the Potter children. James didn't seem interested in him, Albus stammered a little, and Lily enthusiastically asked him what he did as an assistant but when he replied that he only helped with shopping she lost interest as well.

Myles was glad when Mrs. Lenore said her farewells to the Potters and they left the Mr. Florean's, the conversation between him and the Potter children had felt forced, though it seemed Mrs. Lenore had talked amicably with the parents.

"How do you know them?" Myles asked, curious how Mrs. Lenore met people who were evidently famous.

"Harry headed a school club that I was in at Hogwarts for a year, the DA. I hear it's still an active club, maybe you'll want to join this year." she replied.

"I think Mr. Florean likes you." Myles said, partially to steer the conversation away from Hogwarts and partially because he thought it was obvious. He was surprised to see Mrs. Lenore flush and stammer, the least composed he'd seen her yet.

"Surely not." she finally responded with an air of finality and they walked the rest of the way back to Beth's in silence.

It didn't seem that Mrs. Lenore had any reason to return to the shop except to grab an item seemingly at random from the back and then ask Myles to lock up when he left. This conveniently left Myles alone in the shop with a blanket, pillow, and leftover sandwiches.

Myles locked the door and wondered about Mrs. Lenore. Perhaps he should have been worried that she clearly knew he was a runaway, but there was something implicitly trustworthy about the healer. He considered going to sleep right then, but was drawn to one of the few books that Mrs. Lenore had for sale.

He looked through all their titles and picked out the most beginner friendly one, "_An Introduction to the Art of Healing: Practical Guide and Basic Theory."_

Myles brought the thick book to the desk and began to read - _"The healing arts, despite their general usefulness and life saving potential, are neglected by the general population. This is due to the control non-trivial healing charms require. Healing a simple cut (see page 3) requires little more than the incantation and its wand movement, but dealing with even cleanly broken bones without control and the proper intentions can lead to disastrous effect. This text primarily details trivial healing, with an introduction to low-level non-trivial spells once the necessary background has been established."_

It had been almost a year since Myles had read something new, and he immersed himself with the new text. He practiced the incantations and detailed wand motions with his new wand, though he couldn't be sure he was doing them correctly.

Drooping eyes and the return of his grumbling stomach eventually drew him away from the text. He noted his place in the book with pleasure, well over a quarter of the way through, and closed it. It was later than he realized, seeing the hour hand a quarter past nine on the clock.

Myles finished the leftover sandwiches (they were just as delicious as before) and collapsed on the floor. He took out his old wand and the piece of parchment Cecillia had given him, reading it for the first time. "Seren Manor, 18th Knightdale Valley" it read. He thought about the unusual girl that had given him the parchment and wondered how he was going to find Livian, running his hand down the makeshift wand that housed a strand of her hair. After a moment Myles put the items back in his pocket, then arranged the pillow and blanket into a comfortable position and fell asleep almost instantly, feeling safe and content for the first time in a long time.


	3. Chapter 3: Settling In

**Chapter 3: Settling In**

**A/N:** Lot of schoolwork but I finally posted this. I don't think my writing on these chapters is great, but part of the reason for writing this fanfiction (I've been very slowly writing my own stories for a couple of years) is to just write out without constantly second guessing how it sound and looks. My plan for the story was rather vague starting out, but I've got a good general idea of the overlying plot now and I would enjoy carrying it out. This fanfic borrows ideas/concepts from other fanfictions, so far taking the Interdict of Merlin from HPMOR (will take more ideas from this universe) and taking inspiration from "hexem" in Alexandra Quick.

Myles woke to a soft intentional cough, and blearily opened his eyes to see Ms. Lenore smiling slightly at him.

"Shower when you're up, there's no hurry." She said, walking off to begin preparing the custom order potions.

He rose blinking, realizing that he had overslept and killed the pretense that he was sleeping at his home. The hot water in the shower was refreshing, he hadn't taken a shower in over three days and being clean felt good. Myles was less thrilled about putting on his robes, which smelled after three days of being constantly worn and three days before that of daytime wear. Nevertheless, he put them on and went to see if Ms. Lenore could use help. She handed him a note and a check and told him to go to Malkin's Robes, saying he needed to look presentable to work the desk.

Malkin's was not as bright or colorful as many of the other places on Diagon Alley but it's darker tones and organized appearance gave it a more serious and respectable tones. He was not surprised to see a pair of children his age standing inside. They were dressed in some of the finest robes he'd seen and stood in a rather imperious fashion, with their heads up high and looking around the shop with vague disinterest and entitlement. He wondered if they were twins, the boy's hair was white while the girl's was dark brown but they stood like they were a pair and looked to be the same age.

Myles approached the deck and gave his note and check to the clerk, who told him to wait and that "We'll be with you shortly." The twins wrinkled their noses at him as he passed, though the way his robes smelled he could hardly blame them.

"Are you getting Hogwarts robes?" the boy asked, in a superior but not unkind manner.

Myles nodded, certain that claiming he wasn't going to Hogwarts would raise more questions than it answered. "You as well?" he replied, a little surprised the boy was talking to him even if only out of boredom.

The boy nodded back and held his hand out to shake. "Ambrose Malfoy." He pronounced the Malfoy with particular pride and looked at Myles expectantly as he said it.

"Myles." he returned.

"This is my twin sister Ambrosia, we'll be attending Hogwarts next year." Ambrose said, clearly perturbed at his complete nonreaction and short introduction. Ambrosia nodded to him in greeting and then Ambrose and Ambrosia were called to the fitting rooms.

Myles didn't think much about his encounter with the Malfoy twins, except to wonder if children were the same outside of the Orphanage. He got fitted for a pair of robes, not as fancy as the Malfoy's but certainly nicer than the old robes he had been wearing and returned to Beth's, feeling a bit guilty that Ms. Lenore was now feeding, clothing, and housing him and he was of so little help in return.

The bell rang as he entered and Ms. Lenore approached him as he made his way to the back. She smiled wide, wider than he had seen smile before and crouched down in front of him.

"You're a very handsome boy you know, all cleaned up and properly dressed." Myles blushed, looking down and Ms. Lenore's feet. It seemed She fussed with his hair, arranging it into neat curls with her hands and a light buzz of magic on her fingertips. Myles almost brushed her hands away at first, but the genuine smile on her face stopped him and a part of him realized how much he had enjoyed the attention afterwards.

He began the short list of chores he could do while Ms. Lenore saw to clients, taking a particularly long time with a patient who had somehow managed to cast a charm that produced bubbles inside herself, posing a critical threat to her lungs and brain.

When Ms. Lenore went on an "Urgent" house call (a meter above the fireplace eater house calls request from "At Convenience" to "Emergency"), minded the desk and, having only a brief encounter with one customer, returned to reading the Introductory healing book he had begun last night. Myles was still reading it, wand out and practicing the wand motions for healing spell intended for splintered bones when Ms. Lenore returned. He quickly put away his wand and moved the book aside, unsure if Ms. Lenore wanted him studying while minding the desk and aware he hadn't even asked permission to read the book.

She noticed him putting the book and wand away and smiled while he mumbled apologies. "Nonesense, a healer's assistant should learn to heal. Let me see what you've read so far."

Myles showed Ms. Lenore how much he had read and she seemed impressed, if a little skeptical. "Well," she said, flipping to one of the simplest spells in the book which healed small cuts. "Let's see if you can cast some of these spells."

Myles's eyes widened with surprise and excitement and Ms. Lenore went to fetch a healing practice prop, a construct in the shape of an arm that imitated skin, bones, and muscles for the purpose of practicing healing. He hadn't never practiced _real_ spells before, with matching incantation and wand motions and was excited to both use his new wand and learn magic.

"Okay, now recite the incantation to me without using your wand." She instructed.

"_Nits"_ he pronounced.

"Very good, but shorten the _s _just a smidge. Try again."

"_Nits_" he tried again.

"Excellent, now show the wand movements without the incantation." Myles performed the small downward facing crescent motion followed by the slide to center required for the spell. Ms. Lenore looked at his wand interestedly, but didn't mention it's odd appearance.

"Perfect," Ms. Lenore said, drawing a knife and nicking the arm. "Now let's try combining the two."

Myles pointed his wand at the cut and executed the spell. It sewed back together in the blink of an eye, leaving him ecstatic in his success at casting his first real spell.

"Well done Myles," Ms. Lenore said. "Few wizards or witches your age can learn spells on their first try. Let's do some more."

Myles practiced more spells from the book with Ms. Lenore tutoring him on the motions and incantations. He performed almost every spell on his first try, after Ms. Lenore checked his wand motions and pronunciations. She was surprised when he managed the Bone-Setting and Bone-Mending Spells, asking if he had experience with healing magic before. Their tutoring session was interrupted when the the entryway bell rang, signaling a customer entering the shop.

"That was extremely impressive Myles." Ms. Lenore said earnestly. "We'll continue later. Would you put the practice arm in the back by the Restricting Bandages and clean up the cauldron and counter for me?"

Myles thought about the different feel of casting magic with real spells and a functional wand. Livian and him had discovered they could cast magic non accidentally and with greater effect when they intentionally cut themselves, though oftentimes nothing happened at all. Casting blood magic had felt like guiding a river he couldn't see or hear and that was filled with a liquid far slippier than water.

Magic with the wand he had made, and without real incantations or wand motions, had failed more often than not. When it did work it felt like the river was being roughly thrown into the wand and haphazardly traveling through it.

Myles could barely feel the magic casting the spells detailed in the healing book with his new wand. The river was neatly guided into the wand, and channeled flawlessly through, its flow so subtle it was barely indiscernible. It felt odd, after struggling with magic for so long, to perform it so easily, as if the spell was doing the magic for him and he was only a spectator.

Ms. Lenore was occupied treating clients until lunch time, when a late middle-aged woman arrived. She was carrying, or rather levitating, a large dish of shepherd's pie in front of her and held a friendly smile on her face that covered for the dark black scar that ran down her cheek.

"How are you Jay?" she asked, setting the dish down on the desk.

"Splendid, Myra." Ms. Lenore replied, smiling back at the older woman. "Is Lyla still well?"

"She's never been better, you're a miracle worker. Joseph and I can't thank you enough for what you did. If you ever need anything from us, just ask and we'll be there."

"I was just doing my job." Ms. Lenore said dismissively. "This is my assistant Myles, Myles this is Mrs. Laughlin. She brought those sandwiches yesterday and her daughter Lyla is your age."

"The sandwiches were amazing." Myles said enthusiastically to Mrs. Laughlin.

"I hope you'll like my pie has much." She laughed, seeing the look he was giving the hot dish on the desk. Ms. Lenore invited Mrs. Laughlin to eat with them but she politely refused and Myles and Ms. Lenore ate, enjoying the shepherd's pie that was every bit as good as sandwiches and more.

The rest of the day passed much the same as the day before, with the exception that Ms. Lenore and Myles did not go out for ice cream. Myles did minor work around the shop and minded the desk when needed, and Ms. Lenore taught him a Heating Charm he could use on the leftover pie.

This formed into a routine in the next few days. He learned potions basics so he could fetch ingredients and help prepare them, _scourgify_ and other household spells, and continued reading and practicing healing from the textbook he had begun reading (which was much slower going as it became much more difficult). Myles was fascinated watching Ms. Lenore treat patients, who had all sorts of magical and physical ailments: from giant glowing green blisters covering their body and a scaly tongue to the wizards flu. She worked wonders, transforming their bodies back to normalcy in mere moments. It motivated him to improve at and understand the intricacies of healing magic.

He got his first chance to attempt a healing spell for real one afternoon when a young girl walked into Beth's. She was in a state of total disorder: her hair wild and tied carelessly back, her robes dity, her hands scraped red, one ear was twice as big as the other and looped over itself, and a rash of red ran down her face on the same side as the overly large ear. She held a large color morphing cat in her arms, which were shaking from the weight of it. The girl was looking down at the rainbow of fluffy with a combination of worry and devotion.

"Ms. Lenore!" she exclaimed. "Scufy took a fall and now he won't walk right."

"Well, set her down then." Ms. Lenore gestured to the desk and looked at the girl with a mixture of amusement and fondness. "You know your mother doesn't approve of you playing hexem with the local boys Lyla."

"I won though!" Lyla said with a fierce stubborn pride.

"And is that how Scufy became hurt and your face lost its sense of proportions?" Ms. Lenore asked severely, thought Myles could see she was hiding a grin.

Lyla now looked suitably abashed. "It wasn't Scufy's fault though ma'm. Please heal him, something's wrong with his leg and he can't walk. I won't get him involved in hexem again." Myles noticed that she did not include herself in her promise.

Ms. Lenore cast a diagnostic spell on the Scufy's blood matted leg and then called to Myles. "This is perfect for you, he has a neatly fractured tibia and an easily manageable cut on the side of his leg. Lyla, you're going to need to hold him down while Myles heals him."

The girl nodded and looked at him with absolute confidence, which greatly heightened the nerves building in his stomach at the prospect of healing a living creature for the first time. Nevertheless, Myles approached the large cat (now gray with the ends of it's hair flickering amber) and drew his wand.

"Let's heal the bone first." Ms. Lenore instructed. "Let me hear you incante and see the motions before casting."

"_Meithis"_ Myles nervously but firmly pronounced.

"Very good, now the motions." Myles demonstrated the wand motions. "Perfect, now together on Scuffy's leg."

Myles took a deep breath, and then another, before pointing his wand at Scuffy's leg clearly stating the incantation and performing the tight swirl and flick of his wand that the bone mending charm required. He was alarmed at the cat's resulting screech but relieved at Ms. Lenore's proud smile. "Very well done, now treat the cut."

"_Nits." _Myles cast, much more confident in the simpler spell.

'I couldn't have done better myself." Ms. Lenore declared, cleaning the blood out of the cat's fur with a wave of her wand, and rising from her chair. "Now come here dear, I can't let you walk around with your face in such a mess."

Ms. Lenore's wand waved three times, and Lyla's ear shrunk back to normal size, her skin returned to its normal complexion, the scrapes on her hands disappeared, and, in the midst of these changes, her hair and robes arranged themselves in an orderly fashion. The process looked discomforting for Lyla, but she bore it without flinching, looking as if this happened often.

"Thank you ma'm, Scuffy and I won't forget it." she said, caressing her cat's fur and whispering soft reasurrences into its ear. Scuffy gave Myles the evil eye, apparently deciding to blame him for the pain of the healing spells but not the actual healing.

"Myles and I were about to go out for ice cream if you'd like to join us Lyla." Ms. Lenore said, catching Myles unawares and lighting up Lyla's eyes.

"Ice cream!" she exclaimed, before remembering something disappointing. "I don't have any money though."

"It'll my treat." Ms. Lenore informed the girl. "Just give us a moment to clean up."

Lyla beamed up happily at Ms. Lenore and the four of them, including Scufy (who was still giving Myles mistrustful looks), left the shop a few minutes later and headed to Florean's. Mr. Florean was absent from the shop, and they ordered ice cream cones of varying flavors. Myles tried out Typhoon, a light blue cream with brightly colored fish shaped sprinkled swimming through it, while Lyla ordered Snapping Strawberry, despite the clerk's warning that some found the "snap" to be unpleasant on their tongues, and Ms. Lenore had Witch's Ice, a rather plain appearing white ice cream.

They found a table outside, having decided to enjoy the fair weather

An old witch hailed Ms. Lenore as they found a table outside, and, in greeting, was pulled into a conversation, leaving Myles and Lyla sitting across from each other. Scuffy situated himself on Lyla's lap, his gaze shifting back and forth from Myles to the ice cream cone in his owner's hand, his color changing from the dark black and red tones of his suspicious watchfulness, to softer pink and yellow hues as he eyed the ice cream cone.

"What's hexem?" Myles asked Lyla, wondering about her oversized ear and large rash before coming into Beth's earlier. The girl gave him a look that managed to be disgruntled, worrying, accusing, and indignant all at once.

"Hexem," Lyla declared, straightening up in her chair and tilting her head imperiously. "Is war. A trial of valor and skill, in which only the last standing proves victorious." Scufy, either agreeing with which on the importance of hexem or simply mimicking its owner's attitude, reared his head and flared it's coat purple and white. Lyla shifting in her seat, however, had brought the ice cream cone dangerously close to Scuffy's mouth and he, with his coat flaring red, licked the snapping strawberry confection. Lyla devolved into giggles as the multicolored cat, unprepared for the "snap" of the treat, pawed at his face while his coat became a light show that would have shamed a rainbow. Myles joined in on the laughter, drawn by the ridiculousness of the scene before him.

"But what do you actually do in it?" Myles asked once the Scufy's tongue had recovered (he was now giving the black and red suspicious gaze to Lyla's ice cream as well as to Myles).

"You find your enemies," Lyla said seriously, pausing to lick her ice cream. "And then you hex them. Every kid with a wand in the Lower Alley plays, 'cept some of the girls, and the older boys play separate, of course. I won today, even though Oli and Thomas played; and they're second years at school."

Lyla got into an animated description of how she and Scuffy had conquered the streets of the Lower Alley, an entertaining endeavor that fully explained hexem. Hexem was a game that the kids in the Lower Alley played, a neighborhood wide free for all in which hexes were exchanged and you lost when you surrendered or could no longer move or cast spells. It was bound only by chalk marked outlines considered outside of household premises where the Trace magic wouldn't be registered to a wizarding household. The way Lyla explained it, dodging in and out of chalk lines was a high stakes part of the game, and performing spells outside of them forfeited the game and risked a visit from a Ministry official.

Her victory today had involved rooftop chases and a number of won duels, some of which had left her in much worse shape than she had come into the shop with. She had dealt with reversed knees, had shed her shoes due to a sticking charm cleverly aimed at the floor below that she didn't have time to clear (she was still shoeless), and severely enlarged toenails. The rule was that if you threw a hex you had to be able to cast the counter-spell afterwards to clear the effects, but Lyla had run off to get Scuffy's leg healed before getting some of the hexes treated. Scuffy's injury had come from jumping onto an opponent that was sneaking up behind Lyla from a rooftop and Myles interpreted that the use of pets was a legal grey area in Lower Alley hexem.

"Did you enjoy the ice cream?" Ms. Lenore asked as she joined them at the table, having extricated herself from conversation with the overly talkative witch that had called her over. Their ice cream was all but gone and Lyla had finished the story of her hexem game.

"It was amazing ma'm," Lyla beamed at Ms. Lenore and Myles nodded in agreement. "Thank you!"

They left a couple of minutes later. Lyla, excited about going to Hogwarts in just a couple of weeks, pestered Ms. Lenore with questions about the school the whole way back. She didn't seem to mind, however, answering each question patiently:

"What house were you in at Hogwarts?"

"Hufflepuff."

"What's Hufflepuff like?"

"It's a house of lasting friends and great times. I couldn't imagine being sorted differently."

"Is the common room big?"

"Large enough, though I never saw the other common rooms."

"Do you really get to fight against trolls in Defence Against the Dark Arts?"

"I don't know where that rumor started."

"Does the Defence professor really die every year?"

"They don't last more than a year as a teacher, but few of them die."

"Did you fight in the Battle for Hogwarts?"

"I was there." Ms. Lenore responded to the last question after a pause, in a tone that brokered no further questions and a grim mood.

Myles was learning a lot about the world outside of the Orphanage, details and wonders that hadn't been described in the few texts he had read in the long bookshelf of the Library. But he still felt constantly out of the loop and knew nothing about the battle Lyla had referenced and little about the often mentioned Hogwarts.

The rest of their walk passed in silence and Lyla said her farewells when they reached Beth's. She gave Ms. Lenore a hug, darting into her arms, and the composed woman let out a rare full and genuine smile as she hugged the young girl back. Lyla thanked Ms. Lenore again, then released from the embrace and looked Myles in the eyes.

"By Scuffy's hue and witch's word, we owe you one." She said solemnly, holding out her hand for him to shake. Myles, quite confused by the girl's dramatics, shook her hand. He guessed that she was referring to him healing Scuffy, though Ms. Lenore would have done a much better job. Lyla left, Scuffy and her walking energetically down towards Lower Alley. Ms. Lenore gave Myles a knowing and slightly mischievous smile, her eyes twinkling with amusement, and Myles blushed without knowing why.

The re-entered Beth's, the sign magically flipping from closed to open as Ms. Lenore entered the shop. They fell into the comfortable routine they had formed over the past few days: tutoring in healing, treating clients, and managing the store. Myles was beginning to feel comfortable here, beginning to feel at home in the herb scented shop. The situation, however, would not last through the upcoming weekend.


	4. Chapter 4: Helpless

**Chapter 4: Helpless**

Myles had known since his first day as Ms. Lenore's assistant that Beth's closed on Sundays and, for the whole week, had wondered what would happen then. He didn't know if would be allowed to stay when the shop was closed for the date or where he would go. He was still unsure about his situation on Saturday, until Ms. Lenore approached him that afternoon before closing.

"Myles," Ms. Lenore said slowly, crouching down and lowering her eye down level to Myles'. "Beth's is closed tomorrow."

Myles felt a flash of panic. Was she finally going to tell him he couldn't sleep at Beth's anymore? Was she going to tell him she didn't want him getting in the way of running the shop anymore? Where would he go?

"I have a spare bed," She continued. "Would you like to stay with me?"

He let out a relieved breath and nodded his head, not trusting himself to be able to speak. Myles hadn't realized how much he had gotten used to the comfort of Beth's and Ms. Lenore's calm presence and he was grateful to be invited to 's home. Despite Ms. Lenore's obvious realization that he was a runaway of sorts, she had never brought up Myles's situation or pried into his past, tiptoeing around Myles's discomfort with the situation with nothing more than concerned looks.

"Well then," Ms. Lenore smiled at him. "Let's close up the shop."

Ms. Lenore lived in a small wizard of community mostly lived in by owners of long-standing family shops in Diagon Alley that was connected to the "space" fit inside Muggle London. It was connected in the Lower Alley,

So they walked down Diagon Alley. The shops on the street became poorer and poorer in quality, and the frequency of closed stores became higher and higher. It was very different, however, from Knockturn Alley. Knockturn Alley had had a dark dangerous feel about it, and the poorly constructed shops in it had always been that way. The shops on the low end of Diagon Alley were marked by permanent "closed" signs and deteriorated maintenance.

Ms. Lenore was surprised when he asked why the shops were closing, giving him the worried and curious look he occasionally got when he asked something that everyone should know. He had gotten that same look when he had asked who Harry Potter was.

"Ever since Gunore's Grand General opened on the far side of the Leaky Cauldron the lower end of Diagon Alley has been struggling. Gunore sells just about everything you'll find on the Alley and often at a cheaper price. It hasn't been as hard on Beth's, my inventory is only a part of my revenue, but a lot of the other shops haven't been able to keep afloat." Ms. Lenore explained, sounding a bit resigned as she looked at the closed shops around her.

They took a shortcut as they neared the Lower Alley, walking down a street of houses that felt only marginally safer than Knockturn Alley. Ms. Lenore, however, who walked down this street everyday looked fully comfortable, exchanging amicable nods with wizards and witches as they passed. While Myles felt safe in Ms. Lenore's protection, he hadn't fully let his guard down since leaving the Orphanage, keeping his eyes open, even if not entirely sure what he was looking for.

So he noticed when a witch hurriedly entered her home, glancing behind him and Ms. Lenore. Myles turned to look behind him, wondering what had caused the woman's reaction and was met with a flash of light. Suddenly Ms. Lenore was moving beside him and the red lights shooting at them bounced away into the sky with a shouted incantation and flourish of her wand.

He caught a glimpse of the two wizards stood ahead of them in the narrow street, wands held out and moving. They were dressed in rough clothing and the color in their face held an unhealthily pale tint, contrasting with the dark bags under their eyes. They still moved quickly enough however, throwing spells at the translucent white shield Ms. Lenore had erected the moment before. Myles hadn't heard the first two spells that had been sent at them, but now incantations were shouted, the voices of the two wizards escalating with the exchange of magic.

Myles stood there stunned for long moments that felt like hours but lasted only a few seconds. Flashing lights shot between the two wizards and Ms. Lenore, whose steady calm had been replaced by a panicked desperation. The see through white shield she had erected with 'protego' was broken almost immediately, and she was saved only by the fact that the wizards, miscordinatinating their attack, had both cast shield breaking spells and the second passed harmlessly through Ms. Lenore.

She returned with a flick of her wand that seemed to make one of the wizards' wand arms jerk up, but accomplished nothing else. One of the wizards performed another shield breaking spell, and this time the other wizard cast a different spell. Ms. Lenore, shieldless, dived out of the way of the red bolt shooting at her, landing hard on the ground.

Mrs. Lenore's luck held and a man behind the two attackers, who Mrs. Lenore had nodded to on their way by, distracted the two wizards, giving her enough time to get back on her feet. The timid and frightened looking man shot a spell at the wizard closest to him, but the spell was easily deflected and the pale wizard's partner took down the man behind them with a sinister looking ball of darkness that broke through the man's fragile looking shield. Ms. Lenore shouted the man's name as he fell, looking sickened at the sight.

The two wizards, with their twitching mouths and oddly focused eyes, did not look evil so much as unhinged and desperate. A volley of spells ensued, with Ms. Lenore able to keep up with them, if just barely. She countered an offense spell with her wand, the yellow light of the curse dissipating at the touch, and dealt with a mass of black coils heading at her with a burst of fire that scorched the air around them. Under the guise of the fire she broke the ground below them into rubble with a hard slash of her wand and sent the rocks shooting at the two wizards.

"Myles," she gasped, having bought a few seconds of time. "Run!"

Myles's trance was broken and, with a single look back back and around wishing he could help but seeing no way a 'reparo' or 'nits' would deter the two wizards, he ran. He sprinted in the opposite direction, running towards the Lower Alley. He heard one of the two wizards shout "Get him!" and realized with sudden clarity that the two men were there for him, they'd come because he'd left the Orphanage. Myles risked a glance back at a clamour of noise and saw Ms. Lenore dropping one of the two even as the other wizard hit her with spell that threw her body like a doll, violently crashing her into a house. The wooden wall collapsed under the impact with a sickening crack, her body disappearing into the hole in the house.

A pit formed in Myles's stomach and he faltered in his run, stumbling in shock. He saw the still standing wizard chasing him, wand out and throwing a spell, and panic pushed thoughts of Ms. Lenore to the back of his mind. He dove to the side and the red ball of light grazed his side, numbing where it hit and knocking him to the ground. Myles scrambled to his feet and raced for the corner, making it before the next spell came.

He experienced a momentary relief at making the corner, which disappeared instantly as the pale and haggard wizard popped into existence in front of him. Their eyes met as the wizard raised his wand again and Myles dashed for the door to the house beside him, the only escape or cover nearby. He hoped with a desperate will that it was unlocked, and the lock clicked in response.

Myles tore into the house. There was a kitchen ahead of him, tended to by a startled old witch who had drawn her wand and aimed at him. She shouted at him but he didn't pay her words any heed, hearing the wizard only steps behind him. He saw a fireplace and a ceramic bowl of powder beside it and came up with a half formed plan.

Ms. Lenore had often taken the Flu to go on house calls and, while Myles had never done it, there didn't seem to be any special trick to using it. He grabbed the Flu powder and thought of the only address he knew.

"Seren Manor, 18th Knightdale Valley." Myles shouted, throwing the powder into the fire and jumping in. He felt a twist in his stomach and a wave of warmth rush through his body and suddenly he was inside of a different fireplace.

The living room before him, in contrast to the one he had just left, was finely decorated. Every piece of furniture, carpet, and decoration inside it was thoughtfully placed, aligned, and picked to fit the unobtrusive color scheme of dark wood and earth tones. Yet several oddities broke the clearly planned layout: a large pink stuffed animal, an animated model of an exotic and scaly beast, a ugly plant with shaking tendril-like vines. Cecilia sat curled up in a cushioned chair far too big for her, reading a book and twirling a quill in between her fingers. Her acacia wand was settled on her ear, bared by a shiny raven pin that swept the side of her hair back.

Myles saw all this for a split second before he was violently flipped upside down, streaks of velvet peeling off of the wall above the fireplace, pulling him up to the roof and tightly wrapping his body. Cecilia looked up from where she sat engrossed in her book, blinking up at him.

"You should've owled first, it's awfully rude to show up unannounced." Cecilia said, but she was smiling as she rose. "Imagine if I hadn't been fully dressed."

A second later, there was another flash below him, followed by grunt and an attempted spell cast. The velvet streaks moved again and, while Myles couldn't look down, he realized the wizard chasing him had attempted to follow him here and had gotten himself caught up in the flu's protective charms just like him.

"Cecilia, love, you didn't say you'd be having guests over." A woman said brightly, rounding a corner and coming into the edges of Myles's vision. She had the same odd look in her eyes that Cecilia did, though the woman's were more abstract and less focused.

"This is Myles, mother." Cecilia responded to the woman. "Myles-not-Muren. And this, well, I'm not at all sure who this is but he doesn't look friendly."

"He does look very angry." Cecilia's mother said curiously, peering at the struggling wizard who was fighting the red velvet strips with his tongue and arm, sputtering as he unsuccessfully tried to cast a spell. "Maybe your friend can tell us why."

Cecilia pointed her wand at the velvet strips encapsulating him, instructing them to gently put Myles down. Gasping, the constrictive velvet strips had made it difficult to breath, he tried to explain, apologizing for bringing the man here as well as coming uninvited himself and trying to explain the attack. He didn't explain the situation well in his state of mind, adding details that had nothing to do with the story and forgetting important details. Ultimately, however, he managed to explain most of what happened and Cecilia's mother, Mrs. Luna Eden, flued to the ministry, bringing the velvet wrapped wizard with her.

A finely dressed house elf served him and Cecilia tea and biscuits and while Myles had no appetite he drank the tea, more for something to do with his hands than any desire for the drink. He had half expected Cecilia to pester him with questions, especially since she had somehow figured he had lied to her about his last name, or even accuse him of not only intruding into her house but also bringing a dangerous wizard along with him. Cecilia, however, sat across from him in companionable silence, letting him recover in silence. She pulled out her book and read, occasionally glancing up at him.

Eventually Cecilia's mother returned, a scarred middle-aged man accompanying her. He wore black robes with embroidered with scarlet and with a series of images set in white on the front. While the scars made his face intimidating, the expression on his face was slightly bored and rather uncaring.

"Myles?" the man asked and Myles nodded his head. "I'm Auror Rawlins. I was informed that you do not have parents or a legal guardian, is this true? Myles nodded again. "I'm here to take you to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. We'll need to hear your account on the attack in the Lower Alley and we'll settle this situation."

Had Myles known more about the wizarding world and society in general, he would have thought it odd that a scarred and unsympathetic man who looked more suited to fighting dark wizards would be sent to retrieve an 11 year old child. But he didn't, and the man's countenance served to make him more apprehensive about going to the Ministry. At this point Myles had come to the conclusion that the Orphanage was not part of the Ministry or, as far as he could tell, wizarding society in general. There were, he had found by researching through books at Flourish and Blotts, no orphanages in Britain and most orphans were adopted into a family. Still, Myles had no idea what awaited him. He didn't know if he would be in trouble for the attack in the Lower Alley and, even if he wasn't, what would happen to him, the same book where he had found out about the wizarding orphanage had stated wizards came into their full rights at 17.

"Myles," Cecilia's mother said gravely. "Remember to keep your shoes tied." Myles glanced down at his feet, thrown off balance by the comment and quite sure that the woman was insane.

A smile tugged at the corners of Cecilia's mouth at his bewildered reaction. "I'll see you at Hogwarts in a few days." She extended a hand and he shook it.

Myles was reassured by Cecilia's reaction. She had said she would see him at Hogwarts, something she wouldn't have said if she thought he was in trouble.

The Auror led him into the fireplace and they Flued to the Ministry of Magic. They exited in a grand and bustling hall, filled with the smell of burnt flu powder and magically appearing people. When Myles had arrived in Diagon Alley for the first time he had been stunned by the commotion and sheer number of people, unable to take everything in. The Ministry was similarly busy, though it's colors were restrained and it's decoration uniform.

Myles took it all in as they strode through the building: grand white marble statues that rose nearly to ceiling, a wide mural depicting a wizard conquering a force of darkness, and the bustling mass of wizardry that moved around him. They entered through a wand checking station, at which the clerk decided to register Myles's wand as an "undefined" build.

The Auror led him to an elevator filled with a number of wizards and witches, with a mass of paper airplanes filling the space above their heads. Myles had never seen an elevator before but he thought there had to be a better mode of transportation than a floating box that everyone needed to wait for. They got off on the second floor, labeled 'Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

"Bringing in dangerous criminals, ay?"' The man who ran the desk in front of them gave the Auror escorting Myles a knowing smile and shot Myles a wink.

"Bah, I'm an Auror! Not a damned babysitter." The Auror replied irascible, not seeming to care that Myles was present. "I'm supposed to be catching Dark Wizards."

"Yes, yes." The clerk replied, giving Myles the impression that he had this spiel many times before. "Well there's a shortage of Dark Wizards at the moment so you'll have to make do, Merlin knows we're still busy enough. You can go ahead to room 301."

Auror Rawlins scowled at the man and lead Myles down a corridor that lead to a room with '301' embroiled on the door. Another man met them there, with a badge on his chest that stated:

**Auror-in-training**

**Phillip Mainser**

"Rawlins, sir. Reporting for duty." The young, spindly man said in a voice that tried to be rough but barely managed to not squeak.

"Well, get in the room boy! You're not paid to sit around." Rawlins barked, making the Auror-in-training pale and jump to open the door in front of them.

The room inside included only a wooden table and two comfortable cushioned chairs facing it. It was an interrogation room, though the soft brown colors of the wallpaper and carpeted floor intended it to be a comfortable one.

"Myles, was it? Sit down over here and we'll have a chat. You'll be along your way in no time." Rawlins clearly made an effort to keep his voice a little softer than when he was barking at the Auror-in-training who stood watching.

He began to ask a series of questions, and Myles ended up telling the whole story. The Auror, however, clearly didn't believe him about the existence of the Orphanage, asking questions that pointed Myles towards admitting he was lying. He took Myles's account of the attack a bit more seriously, though he still seemed skeptical.

"Excuse me, sir. Is Mrs. Lenore going to be alright?" Myles asked.

"A concussion, three broken ribs, admitted to St. Mungo's. She'll be up and running in a couple of days." The Auror replied. "We'll have to get her account of the attack tomorrow. Seems to be a clear case of assault, though. Category 2, likely Brion junkies crazed on the drug or trying to steal money."

Myles felt horrible about the injuries Mrs. Lenore had suffered for him. He ran his hand through the mess of dirty hair atop his ahead, remembering Mrs. Lenore leaning down to adjust his hair: the smell of fresh potion brewing in her hair and robes, her smile lighting up her face.

His thoughts were broken by a red paper airplane flying in through the vents, making a shrill alarm sound as it flew through the air. The Auror-in-training jumped to grab at it in alarm and Auror Rawlins looked at it with the first traces of interest on his face that Myles had seen.

"Seventeen members of the Wizengamot have had their houses raided: two dead, multiple injured." The young man said. "Requesting all available Aurors to duty."

Before the trainee had even finished reading the notice another flew in, louder in volume than the first. "Ten more manors of the Wizengamot raidex and of several other prominent families," he said, paling as he read the new paper. "Requesting all on and off duty Aurors, Aurors-in-training, and Magical Law Enforcement Officers to duty."

Another paper airplane flew in, but the trainee made no effort to read it. "Nothing like this has happened since..." The Auror trainee paled. "Well, si-"

"Since the war." Auror Rawlins finished grimly, unconsciously touching his fingers to his wand. "Take the kid to the general office and then make yourself useful." He tore out of the room, the edges of his lips quirking up in excitement despite the grim set of his face.

"Well… umm," the Auror trainee looked a bit lost for a moment before he gained his composure, standing up straight, hardening his facial expression, and steadying his voice. "Let's get you to the office."

* * *

A/N: Small edit, apparently Auror is always capitalized.


	5. Chapter 5: In-Between Places

**Chapter 5: In-Between Places**

* * *

A/N: Writing this has been a bit awkward (and I'm sure it reads that way too) because Myles doesn't have strong characterization yet (his childhood leaves him in an awkward spot and with gaps of knowledge that aren't as relatable as Harry's, who we share a Muggle upbringing with) and much of the writing so far has been to lead Myles, in a logical way, to Hogwarts. We are finally approaching Hogwarts (the next two chapters are written) and, after this chapter, I think it gets better.

* * *

The Auror trainee, Philip, led Myles through the halls of the Ministry. The second floor, which housed the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, had descended into complete chaos. Clouds of paper airplanes flew overhead and wizards with frantic expressions on brooms flew headlong into them, scattering them and sending them reeling into the packed pedestrians.

Myles had always been slightly uncomfortable walking through the crowded Diagon Alley but that was nothing compared to the packed corridors of the Ministry's second floor. It only got worse as they approached the elevators and Myles was pressed in from all sides by the mass of bodies. His breath tightened, his heart began to pound in his chest, and his palms began to sweat. Seeing the faces around him, their expressions made of either panic or urgency, didn't help.

He tightened his grip on Philip's hand, his safety line in this river of people. Philip, for his part, had noticed that the elevators were ridiculously packed. They were still a distance away, and taking the stairs would be as fast as waiting on the crowd in front of them.

Philip led them to the other side of the traffic and they made much better progress by moving in the opposite direction. The crowd began to thin and Myles's heart slowly eased its heavy pounding.

"I've never seen anything like this. It's…." Philip trailed off. Myles didn't know what the Auror trainee had meant to say, but he knew that Philip wasn't really talking to him.

They reached the stairs and began to descend, the traffic dying almost completely after reached the fourth floor. Despite the chaos and overcrowded elevators, few wizards were using the stairs to travel six floors, from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, the center of the chaos, down to the Atrium, where most of the magical transportation was.

Philip maintained a quick pace as they traveled downwards and Myles did his best to match him. The Auror trainee looked pained, seeing Myles pushed for breath and trying to keep up, but he didn't slow.

Eventually, they reached the Atrium, and the chaos returned, thought in the wide open room it was spread much thinner. Philip led him away from the mayhem and into a small nearly empty corridor.

"This is the back way to the general office. They'll be able to take care of you." Philip tried for a reassuring smile that was soured by the uncertainty in his eyes. Myles just nodded in response.

They entered the general office, walking past a number of offices and reaching the front, where a plump clerk sat, seemingly unconcerned with the chaos of the Ministry.

"Hello," Philip greeted the woman. "This boy, Myles, needs housing. He appears to be, err…" Philip paused, searching for the right word. "A ward of the state." he finally finished.

"Hmmm…" she said, eyeing Philip's name tag and noting his job. "I'll handle him, you get to work."

Philip looked to Myles and opened his mouth as if to say something, but he shut his mouth and gave him a nod before striding off. He walked with a purpose, forcing certainty in his step despite the fear clinging to him. Myles watched him go, as lost as ever.

"You can take a seat, boy." the woman said to Myles. "We won't be getting out of here anytime soon; we'll wait until the situation dies down. Don't want to get in the way of Aurors and enforcement."

So, Myles sat and waited behind the desk, watching the woman do menial work and the white walls. The chaos just outside, audible but muted by the walls, seemed surreal here at the front desk empty besides from him and the clerk.

Eventually the chaos died down to a manageable level and the clerk led Myles out. He asked about what had happened to cause the commotion but she knew little more than he did, telling him she knew there were a number of raids on manors and institutions but that she knew little else.

Myles was taken to what the clerk called the 'British prepubescent foster home." He didn't know what prepubescent meant, but the words 'foster home' reminded him of the Orphanage.

His worries, however, were for naught. The foster home was simply a house in the suburbs of Wizarding London, located in Greensburg, which the clerk explained was one of the largest residential communities in Britain. The features that made this house a foster home were two rooms, each with two bunk beds, and three children that the owner of the house, a wiry widow with a large nose but kind eyes, cared for.

There were, it was explained, very few unadopted orphans in the wizarding world (though it was implied there were quite a few adopted ones) and those over the age of eleven lived year round at Hogwarts, which Myles, he was told, would be leaving for in only a few days after a ministry official did a magical test on his blood, confirming he was of British descent (free schooling was only provided to British citizens) but revealing little else.

Mrs. Elmer, the widow who ran the house, was nice enough but focused her attention on the other three children, all of whom were years younger than Myles. He would, after all, be leaving the house soon. It suited Myles just fine. He spent his time sitting on the back porch, sometimes reading from Mrs. Elmer's small collection of stories and old textbooks or watching gnomes in the backyard, but often just wondering about the men who had chased him in Diagon Alley, the chaos in the Ministry, Hogwarts, and, most of all, Mrs. Lenore.

A letter arrived for him, delivered by a dark black owl who pecked at the window. Mrs. Elmer opened the window, but the owl flew past her, landing on the chair Myles sat on. The owl dropped the letter above Myles's hand and he caught it.

The address labeled on the front had been crossed out several times, leaving little room for the legible text that described the location of Mrs. Elmer's house. It was addressed to him, Myles, with no surname attached. Curious, and made even more so by Mrs. Elmer's knowing look, he opened the letter.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmistress: Minevra McGonagall

(Order of Merlin, First Class)

Dear Myles,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I apologize for the lateness of the letter. The Recording Quill, created by the founders of Hogwarts and used to track all potential British students of magic, has been known to err on rare occasions.

Enclosed with this letter you will find a list of all necessary books and equipment. Due to the nature of your situation the textbooks and equipment will be provided on your arrival. Your current guardian, however, will be expected to provide the robes and winter cloak.

Yours' Sincerely,

Filius Flitwick

Deputy Headmaster

"I'll take you to get your clothing tomorrow." Mrs. Elmer told him with a smile.

"Thank you," Myles said, uncomfortable relying on the kindness of strangers. "Can we visit St. Mungos too?"

"Of course we can stop by." Mrs. Elmer replied before spotting Charles at the other end of the table. "Charles, no! Don't put that in your mouth!"

They went to Measely's Pre-Owned Fashion the next day and Mrs. Elmer bought Myles two sets of robes to go with the robes he was wearing, which he had gotten from Malkin's, and a winter cloak. Myles felt even more awkward than he had when Ms. Lenore had bought things for him and apologized as he thanked her. Mrs. Elmer just waved it off, saying it wasn't really her buying the clothes but the Ministry, as they provided her with an allowance to care for each child. In fact, had Myles been paying close attention as she explained that, he would have noticed the widow looked a bit guilty about it and saw the way she redirected their conversation towards St. Mungo's.

Since Measely's was a ways away from central Diagon Alley they passed "Beth's Potions & Healing" on the way. Myles stopped, looking at the shop that now had a sign stating it was closed for emergency reasons. Mrs. Elmer said something then, looking back at him, but Myles didn't hear it so he just shrugged and walked to catch up.

They took the recently added direct ally, "Gunore's 'A Better London Pathway'", from the end of Diagon Alley, just past the Leaky Cauldron, to St. Mungo's, Mrs. Elmer commenting that the spellwork required to make the pathway was "really something." Ms. Lenore, however, was no longer at St. Mungo's. The clerk at the front desk informed Myles that she had left the previous day, having recovered enough that she was capable of taking care of herself. Mrs. Elmer said it was great news, and Myles agreed, though it did little to reduce the guilt and loneliness that tied up his stomach.

Their outing complete, they Flued back to Mrs. Elmer's house where Charles, in a bout of accidental magic, had exploded the sink, leaving the babysitter to, somewhat successfully, staunch the torrent of water the piping had released. Myles stepped out of the chaos by walking outside, his mind on Hogwarts, which the letter and purchased robes finally made Myles's future attendance there feel real.


	6. Chapter 6: Hogwarts

**Chapter 6: Hogwarts**

* * *

A/N: Skip this if you don't want to read an analysis of the population of wizarding Britain that uses contradictory canon descriptions and statements from the author.

It was mentioned in cannon that there were 70 students in Gryffindor, which means 280 total Hogwarts students. Since J.K. Rowling has stated that the British Ministry of Magic (which governs all of GB and Ireland) pays for Hogwarts school expenses (a.k.a schooling is free) and Hogwarts is one of, if not, the best school of magic in the world, it makes sense that nearly every British (British describing all wizards/witches governed by the British Ministry of Magic) wizard/witch would attend.

At 280 Hogwarts students there are 40 students in each year (but Rowling also states the number of students attending Hogwarts is between 600-100 which is over double the estimation so this is unclear). Assuming average life expectancy for wizards is 100 years (rough estimate) and that 95% of British all wizards/witches attend Hogwarts you have that the population of the British wizarding community is roughly 4,210. The number seems a bit low considering the combined Muggle populations (of UK and Ireland) is over 70 million and since wizarding Britain seems to be one of, if not the, major power in the wizarding world.

This estimate is made even more confusing by Rowling saying she 'imagines' the population of wizarding Britain to be around 3000. However, she also states that the Quidditch World Cup has as many as a hundred thousand routinely attend finals. A hundred thousand attendees would mean the equivalent of either the entire population of 24 or 33 wizarding Britains depending on what estimate you use.

While no accurate estimate can be made given the seemingly conflicting information (you can also buy a unicorn hair core wand for the same exact price as a unicorn hair) ultimately, the infrastructure of the Ministry of Magic and the entertainment business (primarily the Quidditch World Cup and the Quidditch Premier League, which supports 12 British teams) leads me to assign a higher value to the population of wizarding Britain in this fanfic than Rowling does.

**Population estimate for A Lost Child and The World Outside:** The number of students per year in Harry's time (1990s) was roughly 85, hinting at a population of at least 8,500. However, taking on young wizards/witches as apprentices (often your own children) and waiving off Hogwarts schooling is also a common practice, accounting for another 1,000 of the British wizarding population. Day schools, located primarily in Ireland but not unpopular and Wales and not uncommon for paranoid or clingy parents, account for another 4,000 of the population. Immigrants and people the education population estimate doesn't account for account for another 1,500 or so and the post-war baby boom, another 1000, raises the population to a rough total of **16,000**, which is still considerably less than .03% of the Muggle counterpart.

* * *

The next day was September 1st, the first day of Hogwarts. Myles had laid awake much of the night before, listening to Charles's snores below him and staring at the ceiling but he felt strangely well rested when he woke. He had expected to Flu to Hogwarts straight from Mrs. Elmer's but he was told that morning that wasn't, for reasons he didn't quite understand, possible.

Myles was sitting on the back porch in the early afternoon and watching a garden gnome burrowing in the backyard when he heard a pop from the other side of the house and the ringing of the doorbell. Wondering if this visitor might be the one to take him to Hogwarts he walked inside and saw that a witch stood in the doorway with Mrs. Elmer, exchanging greetings.

"And this is Myles?" The woman asked. She smiled civilly at him but the dark black scar that ran down her cheek and onto her neck ruined any disarming effect she had hoped it might have.

"Yes, professor. A wonderful child. Perfectly well behaved," Mrs. Elmer responded for Myles. The witch, evidently a professor, approached Myles.

"Hello, Myles. I'm Professor Ellesbury. We're to take the train to Hogwarts," Professor Ellesbury said to him. Myles found the tone of her voice, which made Myles feel as young as Charles, patronizing, though Mrs. Elmer was much the same. It briefly reminded him the way Mrs. Lenore had never treated him, or made him feel, like a child.

"Hello, Professor," Myles replied, trying to stop his eyes from falling to her scar. "What's a train?"

"Usually a Muggle contraption for transportation. The Hogwarts Express, which we'll be taking, is a magic train, however, one of a kind," Ellesbury explained. "Now fetch your possessions and we can leave. I am, and I apologize, running a bit late."

Myles's possessions consisted of the secondhand clothes he wore, his new and old wand, and a bag on the table that held his two other robes (the nicer one he'd gotten at Malkin's and the other secondhand robes). He grabbed the bag and told Professor Ellesbury he was ready, and a flash of pity momentarily colored Ellesbury's normally inexpressive face.

At the professor's insistence, Mrs. Elmer and Myles said their farewells and exchanged an awkward hug started by the widow. Myles felt that Mrs. Elmer was hugging him because it was what she felt she was supposed to do rather than out of any desire to do so.

"Have you ever Side-Apparated before?" Ellesbury asked, leading him towards the door. "It can be a… disgruntling experience, vomiting is not rare for one's first time."

And so it was with trepidation and a clenched stomach that Myles was folded into the black infinity of space and was pulled out on the other side through straw that was meant for stirring coffee. He had no sooner arrived in the world of color and three dimensional space than he was letting loose that morning's breakfast.

"Scourgify," Professor Ellesbury incanted, sending the vomit to… well, Myles had no idea where the scouring charm sent things. "Here we are, King's Crossing Station."

Myles looked around, finding his bearings amidst the bustling station. He stood on a nearly empty platform that experienced occasional pops that brought wizards and their children into existence. Before him was a crowd of families saying their farewells or, having already said their farewells, talking amongst themselves and waiting to watch the train depart.

"If you could move just off this platform here, I'll go fetch a drink to help with the - ahem - unfortunate taste in your mouth," Professor Ellesbury said and, after directing Myles forward and telling him to stay put, headed to the nearest vending stand.

Many of the wizards and witches in the crowd were dressed oddly, wearing, among other things, what Myles didn't know were called jeans and shirts. He saw the Potter family, mingled in with a large number of red-heads, dressed in this fashion, though he also saw the Malfoy twins, standing with their parents, were dressed normally in robes. And though Myles was noting their clothing, it was not what he was truly looking at.

He was watching the carefree smiles on the Potters' faces as they exchanged jokes, the Malfoys' more reserved but clearly caring behavior, he even spotted Lyla, who was itching to be off and away in search of adventure, pause for long enough to earnestly return the tight bear hug from her mother. With a queasiness that had nothing to do with the bile in his throat, Myles realized he didn't belong here.

"Here we are," Professor Ellesbury said, carrying a can of pop over to him. Myles had never tried pop before but, despite its deliciousness, he didn't really taste it. She paused, looking at him. "Are you alright, Myles?"

Myles nodded. He didn't feel like speaking.

"Well… do you want me to walk you to the train?"

Myles shook his head. He wanted a moment alone and Professor Ellesbury seemed to realize it.

"Alright, then. I'm going to get on the train. When the whistle blows twice that's the last call to get on board. Get on by then; I'll be checking the station to make sure you board," Professor Ellesbury explained. "Do you understand?"

Myles gave her another nod and, with a glance backwards, Professor Ellesbury walked off, disappearing into the crowd and leaving him standing there alone.

When he heard his name being called he could hardly believe it. Out of the crowd, which was quickly thinning as students boarded the train, walked Mrs. Lenore. Her left arm was bandaged and her back was held stiff as she walked, but otherwise looked no worse for wear. It had only been a few days since Myles had last seen her, but it felt like ages.

"I've been searching all over," Mrs. Lenore smiled down at him. It was not Professor Ellesbury's civil smile; it was a genuine one. "I was worried that I had missed you or that you weren't going to make it in time for the train."

"Are you alright?" Mrs. Lenore asked, lowering herself so she could look him in the eyes.

Myles, blinking hard, nodded. He hadn't spoken to Professor Ellesbury because he'd had no reason to, but now he didn't trust himself to speak.

"I'm sorry," He finally managed, looking down.

"Myles," Mrs. Lenore said firmly. "You are not to blame. There was nothing you could have done, those addicts attacked out of nowhere."

"_They were after me_," Myles went to say, but he was interrupted by the double whistle of the train Professor Ellesbury had mentioned.

"Listen, Myles," Mrs. Lenore reached out to organize his hair, hesitating halfway through the familiar motion before continuing it. Her eyes flicked away from Myles's eyes and back, as if she was nervous. "If you want to come back to the store and my home... there's a place for you. Just... just think about it."

Myles stood there in a state of shock as Mrs. Lenore pulled him into a quick hug. "Now, go! The train's about to leave!"

At Mrs. Lenore's urging he started towards the train, walking slowly at first but accelerating as he saw steam rising from the front of the train and he worried it might take off without him. Whistles sounded from the train again, this time three of them in quick succession, and Myles broke off into a full on run, pop spilling out of his can. He climbed aboard the train moments before the wheels began to turn, finding himself at the end of a long hallway.

Students came in and out of doors all along the hallway and Myles discovered small rooms lined each side of the hall for students to sit in during the train ride. All of the rooms, however, were full, or near enough to full that Myles didn't feel comfortable entering a small room with five strangers, many of whom were older and bigger than himself.

He didn't see a single compartment that held less than four people, and the few of those he had seen were occupied by older students. Eventually Myles reached the back of the train and realized he could just stand out in the hall, which he didn't mind. He leaned against the wall and sipped on his pop, discovering that the bubbly drink really was. "_There's a place for you."_

The compartment door in front of him opened and a face popped out, looking up and down the hallway.

"Myles? What are you doing out here?" The face asked and Myles, who hadn't been paying attention to his surroundings, looked up to see Lyla speaking to him. "And why is your sleeve wet?"

Myles glanced down at his sleeve, where pop had spilled when he was running, and stammered something vaguely resembling English.

"Well, get in here then," Lyla said, looking at him expectantly. Scruffy was perched precariously on her thin shoulder, giving Myles a distrusting look accented by the flare of black and red down his fur.

Myles walked into the compartment, making sure to give Scruffy a wide enough berth as he entered. Four other first-years looked up at him (he guessed they were first years by their age and a lack of colors he had seen on many of the older kids).

"No candy trolley yet. But this," Lyla said, pausing dramatically, as if to an inaudible drumroll, for no apparent reason. "Is Myles."

The four first years took turns introducing themselves: Alissa was a pretty girl with painted nails and neatly done hair who smiled at Lyla's dramatics, Cal was a pudgy boy that Myles thought seemed a bit nervous, Kory was a wide-eyed boy that looked at home in the odd fashion that Myles had noticed so many of wizards at the station wearing, and Sam was a dark-skinned boy with an easy, relaxed grin.

"Where's your trunk?" Sam asked.

Myles just shrugged, a motion that highlighted the bag slung around his shoulder. There was an awkward silence as he put the bag up with the rest of the luggage. Lyla, however, was not one to let awkward silences stand.

"I heard you fought dark wizards in the Lower Alley!" She exclaimed. "That you and Mrs. Lenore caught both of them and handed them over to the Auror."

None of the other first years believed that what Lyla had heard was anything other than rumor or fanciful imagination until Myles shook his head. "Mrs. Lenore fought. I ran."

"What a fight it must have been," Lyla continued excitedly. "I skived off chores to see the commotion that came afterwards. The street and houses were in shambles. I bet they were Death Eaters."

"No way. There aren't any Death Eaters anymore, just wannabes too late for their time," Sam said dismissively, though a few of the others looked uncomfortable at the mention of Death Eaters. "I'd know, my dad is in the MLE."

"Oh? And what about the manor raids?" Lyla asked. "Ten of the Wizengamont's own homes attacked. Who did those?"

"Ten?" Myles asked, his curiosity overcoming his shyness. "I thought it was at least twenty seven?"

"Where did you hear that?" Alisa asked.

"I was at the Ministry when it happened and a couple of red paper planes told it to the Aurors I was with," Myles explained. "The second floor was chaos."

"Hmm… _The Daily Prophet_ only said ten," Alissa said, sounding unsure whether to trust Myles, a stranger, over the wizarding news.

"I dunno," Cal spoke up. "My father's always said the _Prophet_ was rubbish."

"Err.," Kory hesitantly joined the conversation. "What's a Wizengamont?"

Lyla and Sam simultaneously jumped into an explanation, but it was Cal who got the point across. "They're like the Wizarding Parliament, but none of the members are voted on."

"Wait," Kory said. "You don't have a democratic government?"

"Sort of, I think. We vote on the Minister of Magic," Cal replied, who was the only one besides Kory that knew what 'democratic' meant.

"The point is," Lyla interjected. "Going after twenty seven Wizengamot members is a big deal and Death Eater is written all over it."

The discussion continued. Sam claimed that it was the Russian Ministry of Magic who had attacked the Wizengamot members and arguing it was only ten, not twenty seven, houses that had been attacked while Lyla remained convinced it was Death Eaters. Little headway had been made in resolving their disagreements before a knock came on their door, one that made all of the first-years look up at interest at the door and made Lyla jump out of her seat in excitement.

The knock came from a trolley outside the door, labeled the Honeydukes Express, which was covered in an assortment of candy in treats, most of which Myles didn't recognize.

"My mom gave me a sickle just for this," Lyla said excitedly, buying a mice pop and a few toffees from the wizard running the trolley while Sam bought a cream can and Cal ordered a couple of chocolate frogs. Alissa didn't order anything when it came to her, but after both Kory and Myles declined she changed her mind, buying everyone a Cauldron Cake.

Each of them thanked her, Myles and Kory more awkwardly than the rest. Seeing Alissa delicately tear pieces off of her Cauldron Cake made Myles feel cumbersome as he dug into his, though seeing Lyla tear recklessly through her own made him feel better.

The six of them sat comfortably for the rest of the train ride. With the exception of Lyla they were all strangers to Myles, but they didn't feel like it. Nor did it feel like it had with the other children in the Orphanage, to whom Livian and Myles were outcasts. It felt… good. They discussed, and argued about, which of the Houses at Hogwarts they wanted to be in, the Soul Brothers' newest track, and the best Quidditch team in the Quidditch Premier League (Alissa, who Myles had thought of cool-tempered and reserved, got into a heated argument with Sam over whether her favorite team, the Scottish Thistles, were better than the London Lions).

Myles didn't know about much of what they were talking about and he seldom spoke up but he enjoyed it nonetheless. He felt, not just good, but normal, like he might manage to fit in here. Kory and Cal, who wearing the odd fashion of clothing, left temporarily to change into their school robes as they neared Hogwarts.

With the castle approaching, their conversation turned towards the Sorting, which decided what House the first-years would be put into. The method of the Sorting, however, was a matter of some debate.

"I heard it's a boggart," Lyla said happily. "They have one set up in front of the professors and you have to confront it in front of the whole school."

"What's a boggart?" Kory asked, who, for some reason Myles hadn't yet discovered, knew as little about the world as he did.

"A household pest that takes the form of your worst fear," Sam explained. "They aren't dangerous, though every once and a while they'll give someone a heart attack."

"Let me get this clear," Kory said incredulously. "Your household pests are everyone's worst fear."

"Only one wizard or witch's worst fear at a time. But, yeah," Sam said. "You might be right, Lyla. What better to determine the character of a wizard than facing your worst fear." Kory turned pale and Lyla beamed, glad that Sam had finally agreed with her.

"It's not a boggart," Cal, who had been quiet most of the conversation, said. "It's a hat."

The general consensus of the compartment was that the Sorting being done by a hat was patently ridiculous, but Cal shook his head. "Rose Weasley found out and told me in the mail. Her cousin, Fred, was trying to trick her into believing she'd have to fight a troll for Sorting, but she snuck into his room and read a letter he was sending to his friend that mentioned the "Sorting Hat."

The six of them considered that, wondering how they would use a hat to Sort them into their Houses. Myles was realizing that what House you were in was a big deal. The earlier conversation had painted Slytherin a bad light and implied Hufflepuff was less than average (though he distrust that because Mrs. Lenore had been in Hufflepuff). Ravenclaw had been described as know it alls and intelligent while Gryffindor had been called brave and stupid.

Myles didn't think he knew much about people yet, but he found it hard to categorize the few people he knew into only one of four categories. Had Mrs. Lenore not been brave when she'd faced down the two wizards? Did her knowledge and ability as a Healer not qualify her for intelligence?

And Livian, Myles felt a rush of guilt realizing that he hadn't thought about her all day, her loyalty had run thicker than blood, she'd been the one to push their magic to its limits and start crafting makeshift wands, she'd never been afraid of the other children in the orphanage, and she'd had the ambition to dream of escape. Did she belong in any one house?

"I'll bet the hat reads your mind," Lyla said, after a brief silence where the others wondered how a hat could decide your House. "I still hope it's a boggart though."

The train slowed to a stop and they looked out the window to see where they were. Myles had hardly noticed the passing time, but it was nearly full dark outside and they couldn't make out many details from the well-lit compartment. A magic voice ran through the train as it stopped, telling them to leave their luggage in the train.

The six of them joined the line of students running to the exit, the commotion and noise cutting off conversation. Myles remembered traveling through the chaotic hallways of the Magical Law Enforcement Department and hesitated before entering the steady stream of students out the door.

His heartbeat began to beat faster out in the corridor but it wasn't as packed or panicked as it had been in the Ministry and he managed to calm himself with deep, steady breaths. A few minutes later he'd made it out into the refreshingly open and chill night air.

"Firs' years! Firs' years over here!" a giant with a lamp called out from the side of the platform. Myles followed Sam and Lyla, who were right ahead of him, over to him. He was bigger than any two, no three, men that Myles had seen combined. Just his shaggy gray-black beard was longer than Myles was tall. To someone who found even normal sized men to be huge after a life lived only seeing children (with the exception of the slightly built caretaker) the giant's size was nothing short of amazing.

Since they had been in one of the last compartments on the train they didn't have to wait long for the rest of the first years to join them. The giant gave a last call for first years and then led the crowd of young students away from the station, down a narrow stone path that could only fit one giant or three first-years walking side by side.

"Ther' she is. Yer firs' time seeing Hogwarts," the giant called as they reached a bend on the path. A grand castle lay on the opposite side of the lake; the moon lit the castle from above and it's perfect reflection on the night-black lake lit the castle from below, giving it an otherworldly glow. Somehow, Myles thought, in all the talk of Hogwarts, no one had mentioned it was a castle.

The path led to the lake, where a number of boats awaited them.

"Fou' to a boat," The giant shouted. "No mor', no less. Got jus' 'nough boats for yer."

They filled into the small boats in state of considerable disorder. Myles found himself sitting with Kory, a red-headed girl, and a strawberry blond boy. He vaguely remembered seeing the two of them at the train station, with the crowd of Potters and red-heads.

"Elias Weasely," the boy introduced himself after they had piled into the boat, holding his hand out to shake. He was a strikingly good-looking boy, with hair like fiery gold and nearly flawless skin.

Myles and Kory shook his hand and introduced themselves to Elias and the girl, Rose Weasley, who was clearly related to Elias but with bushy hair and freckled skin that contrasted with Elias's near flawless features. Myles remembered that Rose Weasley had been the one to tell Cal about the Sorting Hat.

"All full," the giant called before shouting a command. "FORWARD."

The boat glided through the water, moving them over the black moonlit lake so smoothly it felt surreal in the complete silence that hung over the first-years. The castle loomed overhead, which might have felt sinister but for the soft white glow the moon imbued onto it's walls.

The giant led them to dark tunnel that cut into the cliff on which the castle stood. It led to a shore of rock, which the boats slid up as if friction didn't exist.

All of the first-years climbed out of the boats and the giant, after checking that all of them were there, led them up a flight of stairs that marked the end of the cave. The stairs lead to a great wood door and the giant knocked. His fist rapped against the door gently but his strength was evidenced the resonating sound that emanated from the door.


	7. Chapter 7: Sorting

**Chapter 7: Sorting**

The door swung open slowly, silently and without physical aid, revealing the inside of the castle and a tall, thin man who Myles would best describe by _controlled_. There wasn't a stray strand of hair on his head or a single piece of fluff or first on his robes, and he calmly observed the giant before him and the crowd of first years standing on the stairs.

"The firs' years, Professor Sewell," the giant said.

"Much obliged, Hagrid. You're free to go," Professor Sewell returned. His voice was smooth, every syllable pronounced _just so_.

Professor Sewell led them through the hall at a pace that stopped them from gawking overmuch at the inside of the castle. He stopped them outside of a small door through which a rumbling of voices could be heard.

"Welcome to Hogwarts. As you all know, you are about to be sorted. Your friends, your family, perhaps even your heroes have likely told you that one House is greater than another, that some House holds only failures and another is the key to success. They are wrong."

"There is no best House. Keep that in mind when you take the stool. That said, I would be honored to take you into Slytherin."

"Now, form a single file line in alphabetical order by surname," Professor Sewell ordered. He waved his wand to form a spaced out alphabet in the air, any teacher should know that telling a large group of children, or adults for that matter, to line up in alphabetical order unaided is asking for chaos. "Move to the letter of your last name and organize amongst yourselves there."

Myles, having no surname, simply waited behind the Z and watched the rest of the first-years figure their order out. There was only one student with a last name of Z and that girl gave him a questioning look as she lined up. A short time later they had settled into a single file line.

"Follow me," Professor Sewell said. The door opened, releasing the clamour of noise that it had dulled, and Sewell led them through it.

They entered on the side of a great dining hall. There was, somehow, no ceiling but for the star-specked night sky above and ghosts flew freely in between the many candles that floated above them. Students were lined up and down four long tables labeled by their House symbol, so many of them that Myles had trouble believing they had all fit on the train together.

But Myles wasn't looking at the ghosts, or the students, or the night sky. He was looking at dusty old hat on a wooden stool set in front of the High Table, where the staff sat. Silence gradually filled the room and the hat woke up. It gave a yawn, cleared its throat and then, of all things, began to sing.

The hat wasn't terribly good at singing. It was, in fact, terrible at singing. But everyone in the hall listened to it explain its origins of its creation by the Hogwarts founders and describe each of the Houses and gave a hearty applause when it had finished.

"First-years, when I call your name sit on the stool and adorn the Sorting Hat." Professor Sewell said, from where he stood behind the owl-shaped podium in front of the High Table.

"Abernathy, Colin."

A boy walked up to the stool, trying to keep the nerves from his face but failing. He sat and put on the hat, which was too large to reasonably fit an eleven year old. Only a few seconds later the hat boomed. "RAVENCLAW!"

Cheers erupted from the table covered with bronze and blue. The boy hopped off the stairs with a relieved smile and sat at his new House table.

"Ascot, Bethany."

The next girl in line walked up to the stool and was sorted even faster after than the new Ravenclaw boy.

"SLYTHERIN!"

And so it went, each first-year was placed by the Sorting Hat, usually within seconds of placing it on their head. Gryffindor and Hufflepuff seemed to have a competition for who could cheer louder for their new housemates while the Ravenclaw and Slytherin tables were more restrained. First-years that he hadn't met continued to be sorted and there were so many of them, Myles estimated there were nearly a hundred students lined up, that their faces began to blend together and afterwards Myles could only recall the Sortings of the first-years he'd met before.

Sammuel Earnheart or, as Myles knew him, Sam was sorted into Hufflepuff after a whole ten seconds, which was more than the previous three students combined.

On the other hand, Lyla Laughlin, who strode up to the hat without even the barest show of nerves, hadn't quite yet put the hat on her head when the Sorting Hat declared "GRYFFINDOR!"

Calvin Longbottom, or Cal, got a particularly loud applause from the Hufflepuff table and, Myles noted, two of the professors sitting at the High Table.

Cecilia Lovegood-Eden sat on the stool, in near complete stillness broken only by twitches of her lips, for nearly four minutes. It was enough for whispers to start, die back down into silence, and rise back up again twice over. When the Sorting Hat finally shouted "RAVENCLAW!" some of the students jumped at the sudden break of silence. Cecilia face was pale as she sat down to an enthusiastic, suspense built, applause

Ambrose Malfoy, the boy Myles had met at Malkins, was quickly sorted into Slytherin, giving off only a small smirk as he rose to join his housemates like he'd been born there.

His twin sister, Ambrosia Malfoy, however, sat under the hat for nearly a minute before, to everyones' surprise, she was sorted into Hufflepuff. There was a moment of shocked silence before the Hufflepuff table began, reluctantly at first, to cheer for their newest member. Myles heard one of the Slytherin students, who sat at the table closest to the first-years, say in a scathing voice "A Malfoy in Hufflepuff?"

Ambrosia was as shocked as the crowd. She looked over to her twin brother, who stared at her in a state of disbelief, before composing herself, wiping any evidence of emotion off her face. She made her way to the Hufflepuff table wearing what nearly looked like a genuine smile. Professor Sewell had to quiet the students down before they could proceed.

Albus Potter, who Myles had technically met at Florean's Icecream Parlor but didn't know, was sorted into Slytherin with nearly the same results as Ambrosia, though the applause from the Slytherin table was half-hearted at best.

Kory Stuart, to his pleasure, was sorted into Ravenclaw almost as fast as Lyla had been sorted into Gryffindor.

Elias Weasely was sorted into Gryffindor, where a set of red-headed students managed possibly the loudest ruckus of the night.

Rose Weasley, after ten seconds under the hat, went to Ravenclaw, where another set of red-headed students tried their best to outdo their Gryffindor counterparts.

Alissa Wood was sorted quickly into Gryffindor and that left a few a scant few people between Myles and the front of the line.

"Zabini, Thalia."

The cooly assured girl ahead of him took her place at the stool and suddenly he was the only person in line. She held the hat on her head for what Myles counted to be 3 heartbeats. "SLYTHERIN!" And he was up.

"Myles." Professor Sewell said. He didn't pause unnecessarily or otherwise highlight his name, but it was obvious. Myles was the only student without a surname.

He felt the extra weight, of being marked as someone who didn't belong, of being the last first-year to be sorted, the one everyone was watching and waiting on.

Myles felt his heartbeat thud heavily in his chest, his breath begin to restrict. It wasn't the same feeling he got in packed hallways, but it wasn't much different. He forced himself to breathe deep, slow breaths as walked, step by step, towards the Sorting Hat.

He sat down on the stool, facing hundreds of expectant faces, and put the hat on his head.

_Interesting…._

The voice inside his head was completely different than the one that had sung the song. It sounded very nearly like Myles's inner voice.

_What do we have here?_

_So few to be loyal to. So little to be loyal for. Yet loyal all the same. There's no better place for friends than Hufflepuff. You would do well there._

_No fool, not fearless. But not without courage are you?_

Myles thought of himself running away in Lower Alley with no thought of fighting back, nothing but panic driving his motions.

_But that's not true, is it? Knocked to the ground, looking up at trained wizards dueling, and you still tried to think of a way to help. That's why you froze on the ground, you were realizing there was nothing you could do. That you were helpless._

Myles tried to refute the statement but it was pointless. The hat was in his head. It wasn't entirely right, but it was right.

_Yes, I'm entirely right boy. And you know it._

_Now, where was I…. Ah! Ambition._

_Ambition, not yet, not yet. But it dwells in your future. When you feel you belong in this world it will drive you forward, not for political gain or fame but for the love of the climb and to reach the heights you could only dream of before._

_Cleverness…. Yes, when the situation calls for it._

_And ancestry, yes, as you're sure to discover._

You know… my parents? To Myles, biological parents had always been something of a storybook notion. They existed in "The Green Wizard" which rested on the Orphanage's bookshelf, but not in the Orphanage. Seeing the Potters, Weaselys, and Malfoys at the train station, however, had brought the notion in reality.

_Did they bring the notion into reality, or did Mrs. Lenore?_ The hat mused smugly. _And I know nothing. I can learn, but never remember. I am meant to Sort, not spy._

_And onto the last House. Intelligence, yes._

_But most importantly for Ravenclaw, Curiosity, the desire for knowledge. You walk through the world unawares, so little known and so much to know. Those books on the narrow Orphanage shelf, read cover to cover so many times you could recite them by heart, weren't enough, could never be enough. Not for you. Not for the world outside._

_You want to know how the world works. What is the Orphanage? Where did all of the orphans go at eleven? Why were so many people at the train station dressed oddly? What is Quidditch and why do people care so much about watching wizards fly around on broomsticks? What is it like to be a Muggle, to be magicless?_

_And more. So much more. The puzzle of countless generations, never solved. Magic._

_But more importantly - most importantly - you want to know how people work. Why they work. Why didn't Livian work._

Myles was suddenly livid. Livan didn't work?! She'd always cared for him. They'd always been together, through it all, against the caretaker and against the others.

_But you wondered._

_In those times when she'd hang upside down from the tree by her legs, her eyes vacant and unseeing for the better part of the day. Looking like a broken clock, some gear knocked loose and now the hands won't tick right._

'Like a broken clock.' That's exactly what Myles had thought on those days. Deep down he knew that he wasn't angry at the hat, he was angry at himself.

_In those times when she taunted the others, when she flaunted that she was better than them. Because you weren't an outcast at the Orphanage. They were your friends, before it happened. Livian brought you into exile with her, dragged you there. Because she could be cruel._

I was the one who went too far, not Livian.

_Yes… yes. And you were the one that got the Hand didn't you? And why? Because you saw blood on Livian and you lost control. You never spent another moment in their company, not amicably. You were with Livian, for better or worse._

For Better.

_Perhaps_. The hat said slowly, softly. _Perhaps not._

The hat allowed for a moment of silence before continuing.

I can tell you this Myles. Few that come under my brim have your raw power, your talent.

_Fewer, far fewer still, come to me this malleable, this unformed, with this potential to change. It is not a question of maturity but an absence of restrictions. The presence of an open mind._

_Life rarely fails to trap its victims in the corridors of their own mind. They can't escape, they can't want to escape._

_But for you... Every step taken is one taken at a crossroads, and each will slowly determine who you will be._

_I cannot Sort you; you must Sort yourself._

"RAVENCLAW!"

At some point Myles must have closed his eyes, because he had to open them to see. He had no idea how much time had passed, but by the reactions of the students in front of him he guessed he had been under the hat for a long time.

Myles took the hat off; it had grown silent as soon as it had declared his House and began to walk towards the Ravenclaw table. He could hear that they were cheering, but his mind didn't register the noise. Myles was still listening for the hat's voice in his head, a voice he couldn't even describe because it sounded so much like his own.

He sat down next to Cecilia. Her hands, hidden under the table but visible as he passed her, were shaking too. Myles didn't need to know what the hat had said to her. He understood. Cecilia scooted closer to him, not by much, not noticeably closer than the other students sat, but closer.

"Welcome to another year at Hogwarts." Professor Sewell had taken his seat with the rest of the staff and an old but hale woman with a stern, unflinching face stood at the podium. Headmistress McGonagall. "Another year of fresh pupils and bright futures. We're proud to have each and every one of you. Now, eat!"

The students cheered again, and food began to appear on the empty dishes on the table. It was, Myles thought, the most delicious display of food he'd seen in his entire life. The Orphanage had always had enough food, created in one of the locked rooms (Myles had snuck in there once, to find a number of enchanted pots and other kitchen utensils similar to the brooms and mops that cleaned the building) and delivered to your bowl by pulling a lever. But the Orphanage food, almost always a stew or soup of some kind, hadn't tasted great the first time Myles remembered eating it and it certainly hadn't improved with repetition.

Foods he had never seen before, much less eaten, soon crowded every dish and his stomach, overcoming his nerves, reminded him that he hadn't eaten anything but a cauldron cake for the better part of a day.

Myles dug in, joining the rest in heaping food onto his plate and noticing for the first time that Kory and Rose sat across from him. Some of the Ravenclaw students near him, mostly first-years, occasionally looked towards Cecilia and Myles, oddities because of how long they'd been under hat.

A discussion began around the table as they ate. First-years excitedly explained why they were sorted into Ravenclaw: what books they loved, what they wanted to learn, and stories about family members.

Kory was muggleborn and had only found out about the wizarding world a month ago, which explained why he seemed as lost as Myles. He was still only half-convinced that magic was real, explaining using a bunch of words that Myles didn't know and that he heard discounted as "muggle nonsense" out of Kory's earshot. He wanted to learn everything he could about the wizarding world and figure out why Muggle technology didn't work with magic. Kory got a polite response from the Ravenclaws, though it was obvious none of them, except Rose, cared for Muggle things.

Rose's parents were famous for their involvement in a war and her cheeks flushed red when Sabina, a gossipy second-year sitting on the opposite side of Cecilia, mentioned it. She wanted to join the chess club and couldn't wait for Transfiguration classes.

Everyone, excited after the thrill of their sorting, was eager to talk, and soon the only ones left were Cecilia and Myles. A pack of expectant and curious Ravenclaws, including those farther away that had previously held their own conversations looked towards them. There was a long moment of silence, Myles certainly didn't know what to say, before Cecilia spoke.

"I always thought I was going to be Gryffindor or Hufflepuff," Cecilia began shyly, she brought a hand, a perfectly stable hand, up to nervously rearrange her hair. "But… I guess I've always liked books. And maybe.. maybe I've thought of becoming a spell inventor like my mother."

Cecilia's words and body motions, Myles thought, looked and felt completely genuine. But Myles had seen her when she had talked to her father, becoming an entirely different person in an instant. The act was a lie.

She explained how she'd been really sickly as a child so she'd never had many friends and that she hoped she could change that in Ravenclaw. By the time she was done every student listening thought that she was the sweetest girl in the House, if a bit fragile.

Myles had been stuffing his face at the beginning, both because of his hunger and as an excuse to listen but not talk. Now, however, he was losing his appetite.

"And Myles, you want to be a Healer right?" Cecilia asked him excitedly. "I heard you apprenticed with a Healer on Diagon Alley!"

Myles saw what she was doing and took both her lead and a page out of her book. "Yeah," he said softly, the nervousness was not feigned. "I think Ravenclaw can help with that."

"What'd the hat say to you?" Rose Weasely asked, her eyes intensely curious.

"Now, Rose, it's rude to ask that," Sabina admonished, but Myles noticed she was still looking at him with an expression not dissimilar to Rose's, hoping that he would still answer.

"Oh, sorry Myles." Rose's checks flushed an impressive red.

Myles accepted her apology and the conversation reluctantly veered away from him and Cecilia. The dinner dishes disappeared and were replaced by an equal variety of desserts, which he made his best attempt to eat but was too full to manage more than a few bites.

When the deserts disappeared the Great Hall once again quieted and turned to look to the podium Headmistress McGonagall had returned to.

"A few announcements before we head to bed. Due to her exemplary performance finishing out the last year's Defence Against the Dark Arts curriculum and a record high number of students, Professor Calding will be joining us this year as an Assistant Professor."

Professor Calding stood and gave a short wave to the students before returning to her seat.

"Keeping with teaching practices in recent years, non-core Professors will relieve some of the workload for our core classes. As for the Defence Against the Dark Arts post, Professor Salem has joined the Hogwarts staff."

A dark-haired man rose and waved, inspecting the students as they looked up at him. The hand that he waved with, however, was made of metal, not flesh, and it looked like his pieces of his palm moved around his hand.

"Whaddya think? Nutcase?"

"Nah. That was two years ago, this one will be a murderer."

"Least he doesn't look a fraud. Man looks right dangerous."

"I hear he lost his arm hunting a Dark Wizard in the Romanian Wastes."

"You didn't hear anything, it just got announced. His hand's a neat enchantment though, wonder what it does."

Headmistress McGonagall cleared her throat to silence the bout of whispered conversations.

"The forest on school grounds is forbidden to all students without explicit permission from staff and the use of magic on other students is prohibited outside of the classroom. Club information will be posted on the bulletin outside of the Great Hall and House Quidditch trials will be posted on your House bulletin. Now, off to bed."

A beautiful Ravenclaw witch called out to the first-years to come to her with a wink at Rose and, based on her strawberry gold hair, Myles assumed she was yet another Weasley relative, likely Elias's sister. She checked to make sure all of them were there, before introducing herself and the other prefect (who stood behind them to make sure there were no stragglers). The gold-red haired witch was Victoire Weasley and the witch behind them was _another_ Weasely named Molly. It seemed half of Hogwarts were Weaselys.

They were led up the marble staircase outside the Great Hall and then into a room that extended forever, or farther than the eye could see, vertically and the walls to the left and right were hundreds of meters away. Stairways up in the air moved from place to place, seemingly at random. Victoire, with full confidence, led them downwards onto a staircase but stopped them from getting off. Moments after they'd all walked onto it, the staircase disconnected from the platform they'd been standing, attaching itself to a different one instead.

"If you're ever confused about how to get around in Hogwarts - and you will be! - just ask the portraits. They'll tell you where to go," Victoire informed them, and began answering questions as they waited for the staircase to disconnect from its original destination and connect to a new one, such that the staircase was in a completely different location than when they'd gotten onto it.

"Follow me!" She called, leading them off the platform and upwards on an extraordinarily long staircase. They disembarked after five floors of stairs and Victorie led them to another set of stairs, this time a spiral staircase that ended with a hallway.

"And here we are! The entrance to the Ravenclaw Tower." All of the first-years tried to peer over one another to get a good look at the door Victoire was leading them to, some jumping to do so.

Myles, being close to the front, got a good look at the wooden door, which lacked ornamentation except for a large bronze knocker in the shape of an eagle. Victoire, with a deliberate sense of showmanship, used the knocker.

The door didn't open, but the eagle's break did, speaking in a deliberate, somehow musical voice.

"I can bring tears to your eyes; resurrect the dead, make you smile, and reverse time. I form in an instant but I last a lifetime. What am I?"

"Ooo," Victoire said. "Any guesses? The door only lets each person try once so if you get it wrong, you'll have to wait around for the next Ravenclaw to get in. Thankfully, we have a crowd."

"A memory," a girl shouted out behind Myles and the door swung neatly open.

"Very good, Alexa," Victoire said, stepping through the door before continuing dramatically. "And welcome to your new home. The Ravenclaw Tower!"

It was, Myles thought when he made it through the doorway, the most beautiful room he would ever see. A painting of a dark blue and black night sky sparkled brightly above, the stars glowed bright enough to light up the expansive circular room, which was comparable in size to the Great Hall.

A white marble statue, wearing a bronze tiara with a sapphire jewel, stood guard over the room's personal library. The graceful arched windows that lined the walls were framed by bright blue and bronze curtains. An assortment of chairs, tables, and couches too fancy to rightfully be called couches were spread out across the room, each of which featured a reading light attached.

The first-years walked out onto the midnight blue carpet of the common room in muted wonder. Victoire Weasely watched them with an amused smile, remembering the first time she'd seen the Ravenclaw common room. She gave them a few minutes to wander in the room before calling them back in and directing them to their dormitories, the girls rooms up the stairway to the left and the boys to the right.

Another prefect, David, led the twelve Ravenclaw first-years to their section of the boys dormitory, where their luggage waited in front of a set of three doors. Myles and Kory, the only first-year Ravenclaw boy he had met, claimed the two beds on the far side of the middle room. Two other boys, who they quickly and tiredly met, Dexter Turner and Rowan O'Brien, claimed two of the other three beds, leaving the fifth, and last, bed empty.

Myles took his robe off, leaving him in his thin white Orphanage long johns, and climbed tiredly into bed. Despite his full stomach and drooping eyes he was the last boy in the room to fall asleep.

* * *

A/N: So perhaps Livian wasn't/isn't quite the angel Myles makes her out to be.

A/N: I had always thought the Ravenclaw animal was a raven, which are extremely intelligent birds, not an eagle but I'll roll with it.

A/N: There's no way core teachers can handle so many classes/students I'm considering whether to make it more realistic to have some of the other teachers, like the Calding and the non-core professors, teaching some of the classes and by using sixth year TAs (seventh has NEWTs) or just keeping it the same as original to keep it simpler.


	8. Chapter 8: First Day of Classes

**Chapter 8: First Day of Classes**

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A/N: First-years schedule: spreadsheets/d/1ionrMWUn6wTZ5_j3v8eXQaa6vnNQZrn0KshcC0cboLM/edit?usp=sharing

* * *

Myles woke early the next morning to the sound of Kory's snoring, rising out of his unfamiliarly comfortable bed. The window by his bed showed the sun rising over the lake, a view Myles had trouble believing was in his room, and the clock on the wall was at six o'clock even.

He showered in and changed into his Malkins' robes and his other set of underwear, both of which were gifts from Mrs. Lenore and considerably more comfortable than what he'd worn yesterday.

There was a small desk next to each bed, and each of the four desks that the Ravenclaw boys had claimed held a small collection of blue and bronze items: a scarf, three badges, and a number of buttons along with a class schedule that told him when and where his classes would be. Myles was suspicious of whoever snuck into the room, he'd have to ask about that later, but he'd seen all of the senior Ravenclaw students wearing these items with their school robes along with other House themed items including hair pins, socks, and jewelry.

He set about changing out the buttons on his robes and trying to figure out how to attach the Ravenclaw badge to his robes, which he ended doing by accident when he pressed it against his robes, where it stuck like it was sewn into the robes' fabric. Thankfully, it came off and he was able to reposition the badge correctly. His roommates, waking, began to prepare for the morning as well.

"Good morning, Myles," Kory said when he exited the shower. "Charms! Followed by Transfiguration. I can't wait!"

"Eh," Dexter, who preferred to be called Dex, said. "Professor Abbott won't teach anything new, just _Lumos_ or the Chime Charm." He paused, looking at Kory and remembering. "Oh, you're Muggleborn. Well… you'll catch up."

"I haven't learned either of those yet either," Myles told Kory. He didn't think Dex had meant to be rude, but Kory looked worried. "Only a couple healing spells and _scourgify._"

"Healing spells?" Dex asked, shaking his head. "Who learns healing spells before _Lumos?_"

"Neat," Rowan said. "I reckon I'll be behind. My parents are squibs so the only magic I've learned has been from my cousins, mostly hexes and a couple of charms. Healing spells sound right useful though."

The four of them walked down to the Great Hall together, proudly wearing their new Ravenclaw badges. Despite asking the portraits for directions at every turn, they nearly lost their way after one of the portraits recommended an obscure shortcut that somehow took them down two floors without descending any stairs.

They ate breakfast with the other Ravenclaw first years before Myles was summoned to Professor Flitwick's office by a prefect delivered note. The Ravenclaw Head of House supplied him with the required first-year textbooks, albeit secondhand ones, and informed him he could borrow the Potions and Astronomy equipment while in class.

Myles had some trouble carrying the seven textbooks around, though thankfully he'd been supplied a book bag as well. He wanted to take the books he wouldn't need for the day back to his dorm but didn't have enough time before Charms started, so he went straight to the classroom.

Myles was one of the first students to arrive at Charms. He took an empty seat towards the back of the class and set his heavy load of books down. A few minutes Ravenclaws and Slytherins began to fill up the seats and Cecilia partnered with Myles.

"You were at the Ministry when those attacks happened, right?" Cecilia asked him as she sat down. "Did you hear anything about the manor raids?"

Myles shook his head. "I didn't hear anything about who or why, only that there weren't ten raids like the newspaper was saying. A couple red paper airplanes said there were a total of twenty seven, and that was when it started, so there might've been more."

Cecilia looked interested but didn't have a chance to ask any more questions because Charms was starting.

First year Charms was taught by Professor Abbott, whose primary position was the Muggle Studies professor. She was a cheerful witch that was nervous about her first year of teaching at Hogwarts, she'd only taught at primary and day schools before.

She demonstrated and taught the basic Light Charm _Lumos, _which most of the class scoffed at, having already learned it at home. Myles managed it on his first try, though he nearly blinded himself by overpowering it and staring directly at the tip of his wand.

A few of the first-years, however, struggled with the charm and Professor Abbott spent most of her time with them. Myles noticed that Kory was one of the struggling students, and he suspected that most of the others unable to perform the spell were Muggleborn though he saw Albus Potter was struggling as well.

Professor Abbott, realizing that most of the students were bored after lighting and extinguishing their wands for a few minutes, refocused their attention by challenging them to control how the light came off of their wand. She showed that you could focus the light into a beam and even, it was a bit tricky, into multiple separate beams of light.

The new challenge kept most of the students occupied, but had the side effect that most of the struggling students' partners focused their attention on playing around with the charm rather than helping their neighbors. Rose Weasley was one of the exceptions. Partnered with Kory, she determinedly gave advice on how to channeling magic and corrected his pronunciation (_Lumos_ didn't require any wand movements) until her efforts were rewarded by a soft glow from his wand a brighter smile from Kory, who, having done his first intentional spell, looked at his wand with amazement.

Cecilia and Myles managed three separate beams of light within a few minutes and Cecilia challenged him to a game of 'light tag', which Myles was pretty sure she had made up on the spot. "Light tag" involved aiming their beams of light up to form spots of light on the roof and, without moving their wands, one of them sent their three spots of light to capture the others' three by tagging them. It was fun and surprisingly difficult to maintain the beams and control the direction of all three spots at once.

Not every student used the spell for harmless fun though. One of the Slytherin boys focused his newly learned _Lumos_ beam into Alexa's eyes, causing the muggleborn Ravenclaw girl, who'd been struggling with the spell, to cry out in pain.

Professor Abbott, who hadn't seen who had done it but was incensed by the act of bullying, spent the last few minutes of class admonishing their behavior and informing them that Professor Sewell, the teacher of their next class and the Head of Slytherin House, wouldn't tolerate this behavior.

They left for Transfiguration when Professor Abbott let them go. According to the schedule today's Transfiguration lesson was a lecture class, which meant first-years from all four Houses would attend.

The lecture hall was much bigger than the Charms classroom had been, with tiered seating and a podium for the Professor to teach from. The class fell to a complete silence even before the lecture began. Unlike Professor Abbott, Professor Sewell didn't need to admonish or distract his students, he only needed to be in the room.

"You may, in some of your other classes here at Hogwarts, feel that you are allowed to slack off, or goof around. When you are in my class, however, or any other Transfiguration class, you will _behave,_" Professor Sewell said in the dead silence of the classroom, staring at each of the students in their eyes, going row by row.

"In your other classes you are capable of little damage. First-year Charms, Potions, and Defence Against the Dark Arts gone horribly wrong will result in nothing more than a night with Madam Pomfrey. Transfiguration is a different story."

Professor Sewell stepped behind the desk at the front of the podium, revealing two glass cages, each with a mouse and a block of wood inside.

"Even without Life to Life or Life to Material Transfigurations, magic which you will _not_ be performing this year, improper Transfiguration is deadly to the unwary. Watch closely."

He Transfigured the wooden block inside one of the cages into food for the mouse in that cage, which began to cautiously eat it. Professor Sewell moved onto the next cage in the meantime, Transfiguring the wooden block into a much smaller morsel of food.

The mouse moved to the food, sniffing at its newly appeared snack before taking it in its mouth. The Transfiguration released then, brutally splitting the mouse's jaw and breaking its neck with a small _crack_ audible throughout the lecture hall. Gasps ran through the students at the sudden burst of violence from the innocuous mouse and Transfigured piece of food.

Professor Sewell pretended, or deigned, not to notice and moved onto the first mouse, who had eaten much of the Transfigured food in its cage.

"The previous example was obvious, but this is more subtle. What happens when a Transfigured object is ingested? For a healthy witch or wizard, very little. Transfigured objects in our bodies use our magic to maintain their transmuted state, a minor and temporary strain on our magic stores."

"Untill, after a long day of Transfiguration, Charms, and Defence Against the Dark Arts, you become magically exhausted…"

Nothing visibly happened inside the cage; the mouse simply stopped moving, remaining stationary for a second before it fell dead onto the ground.

Professor Sewell let silence claim the lecture hall, letting the seriousness register for the gathered students. A Hufflepuff girl raised her hand. Myles couldn't believe she hadn't been Sorted into Gryffindor, raising her hand in the dead silence of the room.

"Yes, Mrs. Revels?"

"Why'd you have to kill the mice, Professor?" the girl asked, to the shock of the room.

"There will undoubtedly be a number of mice casualties as you fail your supervised Transfiguration experiments. Better mice than men," Professor Sewell replied, walking towards the Hufflepuff girl, moving out in front of the cages and then back again as he finished his response. "But what mice are you referring to?"

The cage where the mouse's head had been torn apart now only held a block of wood and a massacred pin cushion, while the other cage held only a pin cushion with a bulge of wood embedded inside it.

Professor Sewell, his display done, made them copy down the _do-nots _of Transfiguration and sign their parchment, swearing they wouldn't break those rules. Myles thought signing his name might be magically binding but Rose told him it was only to hold the students accountable.

Professor Calding joined them for the second half of the double-period class, it was too much for one professor to oversee the practical magic of almost a hundred children, where they attempted to transfigure matches into needles.

Despite the seemingly trivial nature of turning a match into a needle very few of the first-years managed it that class. Myles got his match to turn silver and take the needle's shape but it wouldn't turn into metal. His limited progress, however, was still farther than most other students. Only Rose, Cecilia, and the Malfoys finished before class ended, earning their House five points each, and Myles suspected they'd studied or practiced Transfiguration before. Lunch followed Transfiguration, and the crowd of first-years made their way to the nearby Great Hall.

"We've got flying next!" Myles heard Lyla exclaim on their way to lunch. "I'm going to try out for the Quidditch team!"

"I thought you were going to join the Dueling Club," Alissa said dryly.

"I am; I'll do both," Lyla replied adamantly.

"Like _you'd_ make the Quidditch team, or anything but a fool out of yourself dueling for that matter," the Slytherin boy who'd pointed his _Lumos _beam into Alexa's eyes in Charms class said contemptuously.

Lyla's eyes widened, not with hurt, but with excitement. "And you are?"

"Tor. Tor Yaxley," he said confidently, his shoulders relaxed and his hands in his pockets. "You can put your wand away; I'm not going to duel you in the hallways."

The Gryffindors around Lyla looked relieved at that, they didn't want her getting into trouble and losing House points on the first day and while some of them looked ready to back Lyla, the 1st floor hallways were not the most inconspicuous place for casting hexes. Lyla, for her part, just looked disappointed. "You scared, snake?"

"I am afflicted with a condition unfortunately rare for you… _lions_; a brain," Tor replied, smiling thinly at Lyla. "I'd rather not get detention on my first day."

Some of the Gryffindors bristled but Lyla just shrugged; her obvious attempt to bait Tor had failed. "I'll be at Dueling Club next week, come if you want."

Tor rolled his eyes, realizing that Lyla wasn't affected by his insults, and said that he might. The confrontation was forgotten as they arrived at the Great Hall and Myles stopped before the entrance to look at the bulletin board, which was covered in club posters.

The posters were wildly decorated in a variety of colors and magic. The Broom Sports Club had enchanted a couple of miniature wizards on brooms and a set of golden rings that the miniature wizards alternated between playing Quidditch with and racing through. "_No riding experience required. Come have fun!"_

The Arts Club poster depicted a witch smoothly playing the piano, which was audible in the hall, and watching a wizard paint a moving portrait of him painting a moving portrait. The DA was represented by a wizard with his back to the painting, facing a great cowled Dementor that towered above him, held back only by a beautiful prancing winged horse made of the bright light trickling from the wizard's wand. Chess Club portrayed a tiny pawn besting the imposing queen: "_Every chess master was once a beginner."_

Newspaper Club had a compilation of articles and moving pictures on the past six DADA professors, which included the headlines: "_Professor Winswroth arrested for pedaphilia?!", "DADA Professor lost in the Hogwarts upper floors, searching for the Cursed Vaults?!", "DADA Professor a vampire?! What's next: Giant, Troll, or Hag?"_

And lastly the Dueling Club poster was a rectangular parchment portraying a maroon podium upon which a refined witch and a wizard faced off. Their movements were swift and concise as they traded spell and counterspell until finally the witch toppled the wizard, after which they returned to their original positions and began again, this time with the wizard getting the better of the witch.

"What are you going to join?" Kory asked Myles.

"I think," Myles said, remembering Mrs. Lenore dueling the two wizards and him lying helplessly on the ground. "I think maybe Dueling Club."

"Dueling Club looks really cool but... I don't think I'd be any good," Kory responded. "I'm going to join Rose in Chess Club; I play with my dad all the time."

"I asked a few of the older years about the different clubs and all of them are friendly but they say the DA is something special. But I really want to do Broom Sports too," Rowan said, looking indecisively between the posters.

They joined the other Ravenclaw students in the Great Hall, discussing the different clubs and their upcoming flying lessons. Myles noted Cecilia sitting with Sabrina and her friends, intently listening to their gossip with an expression only he knew wasn't genuine.

Flying lessons had sounded exciting, but Professor Hawes barely let them do more than command the broom "UP!" (which it obeyed, hard enough that it slammed painfully into Myles's palm) and float gently in the air with severe threats of detention and trouble if they took off. It didn't stop Lyla, and surprisingly Alissa, from performing flips and generally goofing off when Professor Hawes wasn't looking.

Potions, taught by the Astronomy Professor Galloway, was likewise uneventful. They were lectured on the importance and danger of Potions and then made a boil curing potion, which required nothing more than following the textbook directions and using the provided ingredients.

Myles spent the rest of the day in the Ravenclaw common room, learning how to play chess from Kory and Rose and listening to stories about Rose's large, and rambunctious, family and the Muggle world. He read through the beginning of his DADA, Charms, and Transfiguration textbooks after dinner, trying to catch up with the other first-years and when he went to bed that night he felt more at home than he ever had at the Orphanage.

* * *

Cecilia curled up on her new bed, reading a book with a new cover and _old_ pages. The makeup and light glamours that covered her face in daytime were gone, revealing bags under her eyes and an even paler complexion. The drapes around her bed hid her focused _Lumos _charm and her roommates thought she was fast asleep.

* * *

Ambrose Malfoy lay in his bed in the Slytherin Dungeon, knowing he was surrounded by friends and he was in the House he belonged in but feeling lonely nonetheless. Only a few beds down Albus Potter was staring at a letter from his father congratulating him on his Sorting. It made him feel better about his rough start to the year, but only just.

On the other side of the castle Ambrosia had fallen asleep moments ago; she hadn't expected Hufflepuff, no one had expected her to be Sorted there, but maybe… maybe it was where she belonged.

* * *

In Gryffindor Tower Lyla snuggled happily with Scruffy in her bed after a wild game of Gryffindor House rules Exploding snap. She'd already become fast friends with Elias and Alissa, not to mention the friends she'd made in other Houses. Hogwarts was as great as everyone had said, even if some of the classes (History of Magic!) were boring.

* * *

"_A Practical Guide to Defense, Spells and How to Use Them" by Motre Dune, p.g. 65._

_**Spell Classifications**_

_Most defensive and offensive spells can be defined under one of three categories: direct, shot, or root translation spells. A shot spell, sometimes called a projectile spell, is a spell that sends a bolt of magical energy that triggers an effect, or translates into its purpose, on contact with a person or object (see the Stunning Charm, p.g. 275, or the Stinging Hex, p.g. 180). _

_A direct spell, sometimes called instantaneous spells, translates as soon as the spell has been cast and on the area, creature, or wizard it was aimed at (see the Disarming Charm, p.g. 268, or the Tripping Jinx, p.g. 200). When defending yourself from a magical creature or wizard this can be a huge advantage over a shot spell but there are disadvantages. A sufficiently talented wizard or magically resistant creature can reduce and sometimes completely stop the translation of the spell. Additionally, direct spells cannot overpower or circumvent any but the least powerful magical shields._

_A root translation spell, sometimes referred to as an effect spell, is a spell that translates immediately on casting but stems from the caster's wand (see the Fire-Making Charm, p.g. 220, or the Water-Making Charm, p.g. 222). These are situational spells that send non-magical obstacles and attacks at your opponent, most useful for taking on multiple and/or magically resistant enemies._

_This chapter focuses on how this categorization of spells can be more than relevant theory, but practical in choosing what spell(s) to use when in danger._

* * *

A/N: "Every chess master was once a beginner." – Irving Chernev


	9. Chapter 9: DADA

**Chapter 9: DADA**

Excitement about Defense Against the Dark Arts, the last class of the day, ran through the first-year students, distracting them from Transfiguration, where they continued to turn matches into needles, and Herbology, where they were introduced to magical flora by Professor Longbottom, and threatening to keep them awake during History of Magic, which Myles had been interested in before Professor Binns began lecturing.

Defense Against the Dark Arts was a Tuesday and Thursday double-period lecture class at the end of the day for all first-years. It was the only class held in the practical lecture room, a large flat rectangular room with a podium for the Professor to stand on at one end and a pile of dummies and wooden obstacles at the other end. Enough chair desks were arrayed in front of the podium to seat all the first-years with over two-thirds of the room to spare.

Professor Salem was sitting on the podium waiting for class to start when Myles arrived. The man wasn't quite old, but he definitely wasn't young. Despite the occupation he was rumored to have, Dark Wizard hunter, and his metal prosthesis arm, his face was unmarred by scars. He reminded Myles of Auror Rawlins, but more relaxed and more… free, independent.

Myles had seen a couple of prosthesis arms before walking through Diagon Alley but Professor Salem's was nothing like them. It was made of hundreds, if not thousands, of interlocking pieces of metal that were constantly being shifted around by tiny complex gears for no discernable reason. The constant motion _whirred_ softly, audible after the bell rang and an expectant silence cut off the first-years' excited conversations.

It wasn't the imposing and strict silence that Professor Sewell inspired. The Defence Professor held himself looser, observed the students casually rather than sternly. The silence was one of anticipation, because Professor Salem's loose stance wasn't lazy but _dangerous _and because of the wild stories, most of which lacked even a seed of truth, that had spread throughout the school about him.

"Welcome to Defence Against the Dark Arts. The Ministry is of the opinion that first years should be taught various worthless theories and an assortment of tricks that will ineffectually aid you in defeating harmless magical creatures and household pests," Professor Salem broke the silence.

"Throwing a cucumber at a kappa will distract it, a grindylow's fingers are brittle and breakable, a Red Cap will run if you throw a beautification potion onto it. All Ministry backed ways for dealing with magical creatures. All completely useless."

"A Stunning Charm is more effective in every case. Most first-years can't manage the Stunning Charm, but even then they are better served by _Incendio_ or _Relashio_, which can easily handle all but the most dangerous magical creatures you can find in Britain: trolls, dragons, and dementors_. _The populations of these creatures are numbered in the thousands or hundreds and are carefully contained to specific locations. Discounting executions, one or two British wizards, mostly dragon caretakers, die to these creatures a year."

"No, magical creatures are a poor focus of study for Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"A magical creature didn't terrorize Wizarding Britain twice over only a couple of decades ago. Magical creatures did not conquer the greater part of Europe. Magical creatures don't rule over entire sections of countries, their Ministries too afraid to siege their lairs."

"Only a wizard can make whole nations quake in fear. Grindelwald. Voldemort." There were scattered gasps from the first-years at the sound of the last name. "That's why I'm teaching here. So that when the next Grindelwald or Voldemort appears the wizarding world can do more than watch from the sidelines and pray for a Dumbledore or Harry Potter to save them. Because if they hadn't been there to save the day then this world would be Grindewald's, or worse, Voldemort's."

He let his words sink in. Every wizard-born first-year had heard of the second wizarding war, had seen portraits of dead family members or heard stories. But none of them had heard it told so frankly, heard their families' contributions discounted so heavily.

"Now, put your book bags in the back corner. Let's have some fun," Professor Salem's smile held the barest hint of the excitement. The first-years followed his instructions and Professor Salem sent the rows of desks flying orderly into the storeroom with an impressive yet casual display of magic.

"The Numbing Charm is a simple, low-powered, and largely useless spell sometimes used by healers," he continued when the first-years had returned to the front of the podium, now standing. "We are learning it for two reasons. First, it's highly similar to the Stunning Charm in its incantation, wand motions, and feel but easy enough that anyone can cast it. Second, we'll be using it for a game today."

"The incantation is _Torpefy," _the Professor said, slowly enunciating the incantation. "Say it with me on 3. 1… 2… _Torpefy."_

He demonstrated the wand motions next, a sideways back-palm push into a full counterclockwise wrist turn, and then the full spell on a dummy, sending a thin pale red bolt into its chest to no visible effect.

"Now pair up and take turns practicing it on each other. Don't worry about hurting your partner, the spell is harmless." Professor Salem hit himself on the leg with the charm to prove it was, indeed, harmless.

"Myles!" Lyla exclaimed to his side as the first-years began to find partners. The Gryffindor girl was so earnest, her emotions so transparent and pure, that Myles couldn't help but return her smile as she approached. "You need a partner?"

They matched up and began practicing the spell. It fizzled out at first for Lyla, though Myles could see nothing wrong with her wand motions or incantations, but within a couple of minutes her spells were numbing patches of his body, which tickled as the spell's effect expired. Myles once again overpowered his first try at a spell and his Numbing Charm affected most of Lyla's body, which had her bent over laughing at the odd sensation of numbness followed by the tickling aftereffect.

The majority of the first-years also quickly managed the spell, in a way it was even easier than _Lumos _because the wand motions helped guide the magic whereas the _Lumos _charm had no defined movements. Their aim, however, sent pale red bolts everywhere, hitting neighbors as often as it hit their partners. The full wrist turn that the spell ended with made it difficult to aim, and controlling exactly when the spell released at the end of the turn made it even harder. Myles had a fair aim but Lyla's was easily the best in the class, not only could she hit him every time, she could even consistently choose where to hit him.

Professor Salem walked down the lines of students, correcting errors in wand motions and pronunciation as he passed and, when everyone was casting a functional spell, began to give them desperately needed aiming tips.

"Break!" the Defence Professor called out eventually. "Gather round! It's time for our game."

"Each one of you will get one of these," He pulled out a yellow headband and showed it to the students. "Simply tap your wand on the headband and it will turn green," he said, demonstrating and then putting it on his head.

"Now, I need a volunteer." Quite a few hands went up in the air and Professor Salem picked the most energetic of them, Lyla. "Now tap on this headband. Good. And put it on. Now hit me with a numbing charm."

The spell hit the Professor's arm and his headband turned red. He gestured to the previously blank boards above the entrance to the lecture hall, where two long tiles now held the names "Lyla" and "Defence Professor", which was crossed out, with a 1 and 0 by their names respectively.

"When you hit someone with a headband on with the Numbing Charm their headband will turn red and you gain a point and once your headband turns red the magic you cast won't affect the others' headbands. We'll be playing a game of free-for-all tag. Only Numbing Charms will be allowed. Last one standing gets nine points, each tag you get grants one point and once you get tagged you're out for good and have to move to the side of the room. Now, scatter and stand still!"

The first-years spread out across the room and Professor Salem began levitating the obstacles and walls from the back of the room to the spaced in-between the first years.

"The winner gets this collection of Honeydukes candy!" The Professor called out, levitating a basket filled with chocolate and candy up so that all of the first-years could see it. "Now! 3... 2… 1… Begin!"

Myles put his back to the wall next to him and dodged a Numbing Charm from Rose before responding with his own that skimmed her side and turned her headband red. She looked a bit disappointed but congratulated him before walking out to the side.

The students had, as usual, split into their four Houses as they spread across the classroom, each House claiming a quarter of the room, and so almost all of the early "tags" were from hitting fellow Housemates.

Myles, giving it some thought, didn't see any reason to move. He doubted anyone would round up enough points to beat out the bonus from being the last man standing so his best chance would be to avoid action.

* * *

Lyla danced through the Gryffindors around her, weaving through the first-years and their spells with the grace of a ballerina and a show of effortless ease. She was heedless of the potential cover around her, walking out into the open and daring her classmates with a wide open target. Headbands turned red all around her, each of the Numbing Charms sent from her wand finding its mark despite having to constantly dodge the spells sent at her.

* * *

Ambrose and Ambrosia's eyes had met before the Defence Professor had called for the free-for-all to start. They didn't nod or even set expressions on their faces, meeting each other's eyes was more than enough communication for the two twins.

They began making headway towards each other as soon as the chaos began, each of them dropping a few of their Housemates on the way. Neither Ambrose or Ambrosia were duelists, but they were Malfoys; their tutoring had included the basics of dueling, which was more than the other first-years could say.

Ambrose let loose the first Numbing Charm but the two were far enough away that Ambrosia only needed to twist her body to dodge it. Her reply was similarly unsuccessful, and both of them managed to side step the next set of charms. Ambrosia, however, was forced to dive out of the way of her twin brother's next spell as she cast her own in return, making him dive to the ground himself.

Ambrosia was stunned when her arm went numb and her headband turned red. She had to look around to remember all of the other first-years that were still in the game and felt extremely foolish when she did. Ambrose, having dove to the ground as well, fared no better and he was hit while rising to his feet.

* * *

The walls and obstacles around Cecilia began to float up in the air and exit the field of play. The Defence Professor was taking away all the cover on the edges of the room, forcing the first-years towards the center. Cecilia darted towards stable cover, exchanging a pair of Numbing Charms with Alexa, her muggleborn Ravenclaw roommate who had also been flushed out of cover, before landing one. She gave an apologetic shrug to her friend and Alexa wished her good luck as she went to join the sidelines.

* * *

The chaos had died down quickly in the first twenty seconds, as well over half of the class was taken out of the game. Once the cover began to float up into the air and away, however, those on the outside were forced to move in or stand out in the open and the action kicked up again. Myles ran to the next wall of cover, seeing Cecilia to his right but too far for a reliable shot, and then ran inwards again because the wall he had just reached began to rise up.

He had turned two headbands red so far and as the field of cover shortened to only a few scant walls he hit two more Numbing Charms, one on an unsuspecting Hufflepuff and another in a close call with a quick Slytherin girl. He'd been careful to watch out for Cecilia, he was sure she'd be a difficult opponent, but he caught a glimpse of her moving farther off to the right and it looked like his right side would be safe as long as he kept track of her.

A glance at the scoreboard told him there were only six first-years left and he saw Lyla had _thirteen _points, more than the following three names combined. As he looked to the scoreboard all of the remaining cover rose into the air, leaving the remaining six first-years out in the open.

Lyla stood at the opposite end of the circle the students had now formed, a sheen of sweat on her forehead and a wide smile on her face. Tor Yaxley, the small Slytherin bully, stood to her left, and the pair exchanged a pair of charms that saw Lyla neatly sidestepping and Tor's headband turn red.

Cecilia was to Myles's right, facing off against Thalia Zabini, the dark haired girl Myles had stood behind at Sorting, and Sam stood to Myles's left, _Torpefy_ on his lips and wand pointed straight at Myles. Myles was too focused on dodging to aim the Numbing Charm that he responded with but Sam had the misfortune of being closer to Lyla, who hit him on the side and turned his headband red.

Cecilia, out of sight for Myles, won out against Thalia, and there were only three of them left in the game. Myles instantly shot off a Numbing Charm at Lyla , who was easily recognizable as the greatest threat, and Cecilia sent another at the Gryffindor girl's legs a moment later.

Lyla ducked under Myles's Numbing Nharm and dove over Cecilia's, somehow managing to fire off her own at Myles _while_ diving. He jumped out of the way, but Lyla wasn't letting up. She advanced on him, dodging Myles's and Cecilia's now disjointed attacks with ease, and sent a Numbing Charm at him. Not even bothering to see the spell fly towards Myles, because she was _certain _it would hit, Lyla turned and fired another at Cecilia.

The Numbing Charm flew at Myles and he realized he couldn't move fast enough to dodge it. But... he could feel something from the spell, amplified through the wand he held in front of him and he acted without thinking in that split second, attempting to stop the spell by blocking it with his wand.

To his surprise his swiping wand deflected the spell heading at him and, due to an extraordinary stroke of luck rather than any intention, headed straight for Lyla's back. Cecilia's and Lyla's headbands turned red nearly simultaneously and the crowd of spectating first-years, all wearing or carrying red headbands, began to cheer.

There was some confusion amongst the first-years as it was realized that even though Myles was the last one wearing a green headband, Lyla had managed to score _sixteen_ points and Myles, even after the bonus, only had fourteen. Lyla, who hadn't paid attention to the rules or scoring, was confused when both she and Myles congratulated each other on winning at the same time, though she was even more confused by how Myles had deflected her Numbing Charm.

Professor Salem let the clamour die down to a manageable volume before he spoke."Congratulations, Ms. Laughlin, on a hard won and impressive victory. For those wondering how Mr. Myles deflected that Numbing Charm, it appears he accidentally used a rare dueling technique called Spellcatching, which can be used to deflect or even dispel spells. Since it isn't a spell by itself and only a redirection it doesn't break the Numbing Chames only rule."

"Now," Professor Salem continued with a vindictive smile. "It's time for the test."

The clamor returned in an instant, students turning to each other with worried questions, asking if the other others had studied or heard about the test.

"Silence!" Professor Salem's magically amplified voice called quieting the students instantly. "Go to the back and grab your bookbags."

The students reluctantly returned to their bookbags, whispering hurriedly as Professor Salem returned the desks to the room. Papers fluttered through the air and landed on their desks as the first-years returned and sat down.

"Take out your quills," Professor Salem said when they were all seated. "And begin."

The test was multiple choice, and was simple enough when it asked "What is the classification of the Disarming Charm?" or "What determines the rate of travel of a projectile spell?" but became mind-numbing only a few questions later where the questions became select all of the following that apply, or rank the below options in order and asked about subjects Myles had never heard of before, much less knew well enough to answer questions about.

Myles wasn't alone in the silent struggle against the parchment. The first-years, playing a game one moment and being thrown into a test they were in no way prepared for the next, were in various states of confusion and panic. Some looked around like they couldn't believe the paper in front of them, some stared at the paper shocked, others looked like they were going to cry, and Rose _was_ crying as she worked through the test.

He didn't know what to think. Grades were supposed to be important here at Hogwarts, but he didn't understand _why _exactly. You wouldn't be thrown out of Hogwarts for performing badly in a class and they certainly couldn't throw out the whole first year class for their DADA grades. Myles filled in the answers he knew, guessed on a few others, and left the rest blank.

Only a few first-years were still working when he finished and they waited out the rest of the test to the sound of the ticking clock and the few quills still scratching ink out on parchment.

"Time's up." Professor Salem announced when the clock he had set let out its' last tick. He repeated himself so that Rose, who was still furiously looking through the test, stopped and then waved his wand to release a set of quills that began to work their way through the rows of students.

The quills quickly worked through their tests, checking each question and writing a total at the end, confirming what everyone knew.

"There will be no homework in this class. Practical and paper tests will form your grade," Professor Salem said when the quills had finished their work. "As you can see from today, many of you will struggle."

"That's why there'll be an optional extra credit opportunity, worth up to half of your grade in attendance and participation." The bell rang and rejuvenated first-years began to talk excitedly.

"Sign ups," Professor Salem called, motioning for the class to fall silent again. "Are by the door, I hope to see each and every one of your names on the list. Ms. Laughlin and Ms. Lovegood-Eden, could I see the two of you in my office?"

Professor Salem turned towards his office, and the room again filled with excited conversations.

* * *

The office door had been left slightly ajar and Lyla took the opening as an invitation, barging through confidently and descending down the short flight of stairs. Cecilia followed behind, wondering why Professor Salem had asked to see her.

Lyla had been excited to see the office of the Dark Wizard Hunter turned Professor, but Professor Salem's office was nothing but plain, with a number of darkwood drawers and a large desk, empty save for a roll of parchment and the Defence Professor's only decoration in the room was an old and large gold-rimmed mirror leaning against the back wall.

"Ms. Laughlin, Mrs. Lovegood-Eden, come, sit," Professor Salem said to them from behind his desk.

"You can call me Lyla, Professor," Lyla said brightly, taking one of the two seats in front of the desk.

"Cecilia," Cecilia said in kind as she took the other seat.

Professor Salem gave a civil smile that didn't quite reach his eyes in response. "Both of you were impressive today, have you been involved in similar activities before Lyla?"

"Uh," Lyla hesitated before answering, knowing that telling a professor about throwing hexes at other kids wasn't a smart idea. "Maybe a couple of times."

"Regardless, you have a talent for it. I saw you learning the Numbing Charm and noted that you were having some issues, even with flawless wand motions and incantations and I was wondering how you got your wand; is it secondhand?"

"It's my Da's old wand," Lyla said, pulling her wand out of her pocket and showing it to Professor Salem. "I think it's hazelnut and unicorn hair."

"It's common for an inherited wand, passed from parent to child, to be incompatible with the inheritor. Talented wizards and witches can make do with a poorly matched wand, but it cripples their performance and forces bad habits. That's why, even though most families have a couple of passed down wands, they purchase wands at Ollivander's or at second-hand shops." Professor Salem said.

"I think, Lyla, you may not be well-matched for your wand though I am by no means an expert on the matter. I do, however, have a collection of spare wands and one of them might suit you."

The Defence Professor pulled out one of the many drawers on the side of the room with a motion of his wand. An assortment of wands rested inside, some showing considerable wear and others looking like they had just been pulled out of an Ollivander's box, some were labeled and others were unmarked, some were crafted into designs, varying from elegant to crude, and others were as simple as rounded sticks.

"If you can find a suitable wand here, it would be my pleasure for you to take it." Lyla had been listening intently to Professor Salem and her eyes lit up as the drawer opened. "Are you sure, Professor?" She asked with forced hesitation and barely concealed excitement. "I can't pay."

"I'm sure," the Defence Professor said with an air of finality.

Lyla jumped out of her seat and peered down at the wands. "How do I know which wand will match with me?"

"I don't know; it's standard to wave each wand until you find a suitable match," Professor Salem replied.

Lyla lowered her hand to pick one of the wands up, coming to a realization as she reached for a wand of dark black wood. The Defence Professor hadn't bought these wands; they were trophies, and there were a lot of them. The realization pushed her excitement to the brim and she gave the wand a wave. Her magic bit into a drawer on the far side of the office, tearing wood and flinging a chunk of it around the room.

"Perhaps not that wand," Professor Salem said with a slight smile as he repaired his drawer. Lyla apologized but he just waved her on and she continued testing wands with varying effects. A dozen or so wands in she waved a light brown wand that gave off a chime and seemed to settle on it.

"May I, Professor?" Cecilia asked, gesturing towards the drawer of wands. "I think there's a better match."

"You may," Professor Salem replied, watching curiously.

Cecilia rummaged through the wands for a moment before pulling out a wand and handing it to Lyla, who dutifully gave it a wave. It sent out a bright white light, but seemed to match her no better than the previous wand. Cecilia took longer this time, searching through the pile before finally coming up with one and handing it to Lyla.

"Oooo," Lyla breathed in appreciation as she waved the new wand, setting herself aglow and sending a shiver down her back. Slowly the glow in her skin dimmed down, till only the bright smile on her face remained.

"Well done Cecilia, I didn't know of your expertise with wands," Professor Salem commended.

"Just a lucky guess and some reading," Cecilia replied, blushing and lowering her head. "It's aspen I think, but the core wasn't labeled."

"You may leave, Lyla, don't forget your basket of sweets on the podium," the Defence Professor said. "I expect great things from you and your new wand in my class."

"Thanks Professor!" Lyla exclaimed, before pulling an unexpecting Cecilia into a hug and thanking her as well.

Cecilia sat back down as Lyla closed the door behind her, pulling her perfectly innocent, and slightly nervous, face up to look at the Defence Professor. "What'd you want to speak with me about Professor?"

"I'm curious, Ms. Eden," Professor Salem said, calling Cecilia by the latter half of her last name. "Why weren't you trying to win today?"

"What do you mean, Professor?"

The Defence Professor adjusted his hand slightly, and the wand underneath rotated such that it pointed towards Cecilia. A moment of silence hung in the room, in which the diminutive Ravenclaw girl unblinkingly met the Professor's eyes.

"It's nothing," the Defence Professor finally said, an intrigued smile filling his face and reaching his eyes in a way that none of his previous expressions had. "You may join your friends; we'll speak again."

The Defence classroom had, if not quickly, then steadily cleared as the first-year students crowded around the signup sheet and then left, eager to enjoy the free time they had for the rest of the day. Myles was one of the few who lingered in the classroom.

Rose was unsuccessfully trying to fight back tears and a few Ravenclaws, Kory, Myles, and Alexa, had stayed behind trying to comfort her. A couple of Gryffindors, Elias and Alissa, who were waiting on Lyla, joined them.

"Rose," Elias said in an exasperated but fond tone when he walked over to his cousin, whose face was burrowed into her arms on the desk. "Everyone failed the test, you're probably the only one that got over a quarter of the questions right. Just sign up for the club like the rest of us."

Rose raised her head from her arms and saw the score written on her paper before letting out a painful moan and dropping her head back down to the desk. Alexa wisely flipped the paper upside down to hide Rose's score from her.

"I thought it might just be me, being Muggleborn and all, but everyone really did fail," Kory said, who had been looking glum after the test but had cheered up considerably when he realized he wasn't alone and, oddly, while trying to comfort Rose. "It looks like he just wanted to force everyone to join the club; he wasn't exactly subtle about it."

"If half of the stories Teddy and Fred have told are true, it'll probably end horribly," Elias said with a grin, nudging Rose.

"Remember the professor that was sent to St. Mungo's from a flobberworm bite? Turned out he was a vampire and the flobberworms had been eating garlic herbs."

Rose managed raised her head again. "You realize every story they tell is a prank, right? They're worse than Uncle George."

"Professor Salem gave me a new wand!" Lyla exclaimed from the teachers podium behind them, having exited the Defence Professor's office.

"What? Why?" Alissa asked.

"He said my father's wand was a bad match," She explained as she pointed her wand at the basket of Honeydukes candies she'd won. "Wingardium Leviosa!"

Lyla floated the sizable basket into her hands and then proudly hopped off the podium. She dropped the basket down on the desk before Rose's and declared open season on the sweets.

They eagerly passed around the sweets as they asked Lyla more about the wand she'd gotten and then about the damage she'd managed to wreck onto the Defence Professor's office while testing new wands.

"BILDYWOP!" Rose suddenly exclaimed. Her face flushed a bright blue and her tongue twisted onto itself. Elias fell into a fit of laughter, which became hysterical as he looked at the shocked faces of his fellow first-years. The laughter proved contagious and soon enough all of them had joined in, though Rose managed to keep her laughter silent.

"Ugh, what was that?" Rose glared indignantly at Elias, a look that she said she'd get him back for this.

"Well, Fred says it's one of Uncle George's prototypes - they have no idea why it makes you say "BILDYWOP" - but I think Fred might've made it himself," Elias answered, his grin holding the remnants of his laughter.

"Let me try one!" Lyla demanded, and Elias acquiesced, surprised that anyone would volunteer to eat a prank candy.

"BILDYWOP!" The group of first-years relapsed into laughter before they were drawn out of it by a new voice.

"Bildywop?" Cecilia asked innocently, and they laughed even harder while Cecilia looked on with amusement.

"They're tasty," Lyla said, grabbing the last one out of Elias's incredulous hands and popping it into her mouth. "BILDYWOP!"

Cecilia joined in their laughter this time and the group of first-years began to speculate on what would happen in the new Defence club, their theories growing wilder and wilder as they attempted to one-up the outrageousness of the previous guess.

Myles didn't give any theories and he barely participated in the conversation, but just being a part of the group, laughing and smiling along with his fellow first-years, felt good. He thought, for the first time, that this place could become a home to him, in a way the Orphanage never was.


	10. Chapter 10: Dueling Club Pt 1

**Chapter 10: Dueling Club Pt. 1**

The days passed and turned to weeks. They graduated from transfiguring matches into needles to transfiguring matchboxes into pin cushions. Professor Abott taught them the Color-Changing, Levitation, and, despite more than a few singed eyebrows and ruined robes, Fire-Making charms. Binns, Myles had stopped thinking of him as a Professor, had started covering the origins of the modern Wizarding world and he had started reading the matching section of the textbook, finding it fascinating in comparison. Professor Longbottom taught them elementary magical flora in Herbology, an engaging but simple class.

Professor Salem's extra credit club, a subject of both dread and excitement for not just the first-years but all grade-conscientious Hogwarts students turned out to be nothing more than a collection of wand-involved games, some like the one they'd played in their first class and some completely different. The common focus they all held, however, was practical use of magic, allowing the use of only one or two spells, which had been learned in either Charms or Defense.

The first game they played involved a thin metal pole with a half circle at the end (the shape of a cane but no longer than Myles's forearm) and colored rings. Each student was given one of these canes, each of which started out with two rings on the pole. Students were to use Wingardium Leviosa on their canes to make them fly and maneuver them to steal rings from other students' canes. The pole of the cane was indented where the half circle was, to make it easier to hold rings there. It didn't, however, stop the rings from flying off of everyone's poles when they first started levitating and moving them around the room.

The game was difficult just to play and the gap in skill from the best and worst players was too wide for fair games. Professor Salem split the first-years up in groups of five to ten based on skill, an approach he continued when they moved on to other games. To an extent, the groups reflected the students' abilities in the classroom, but there were a number of exceptions. Rose, for instance, easily had the best grade in the class, but didn't make the top two groups. Conversely, many of the Muggleborns, who often struggled in class because they'd never been exposed to the content before, performed much better than in class because they'd already learned the spell. Myles had also come into Hogwarts behind, but it rarely took him more than a few tries to learn a spell.

The group sizes changed by game and skill, Professor Salem would often make the less skilled groups smaller to make the games simpler and easier to play. Where the students were placed, however, was relatively consistent. Myles was always in group one or two, along with Cecilia, Lyla, the Malfoy twins, Sam, Thalia, Elias (who didn't perform well in class but excelled in Defence club), Sam, and Tor.

All of the first-years complained about the free time Professor Salem's Defence club cut into, but none of them complained about the club itself. The games were fun and winners of the games were rewarded with points (the students called them "Salem points") which could be redeemed for candy after class or club. The different skill groups meant that everyone had a chance to win and was motivated to play. They also appreciated the absence of homework (or, in Rose's case, bemoaned it).

Outside of class and Professor Salem's club Myles increasingly found himself in the library. He'd always seen the small collection of books in the Orphanage as a treasure trove, rare tidbits of knowledge about the outside and magic and an escape from the small island. The Hogwarts library, then, was a mountain of gold and diamond.

It was, he found, overwhelming. He decided to try and skim through the library, reading titles and the rare introduction if the title proved too interesting. The reality, however, was that there were a lot of interesting titles, and they often had interesting introductions, and suddenly he'd find himself still standing, but three chapters in. And when this happened, he'd look to where he started his tour of the library and realize he had only made a few feet.

Through this process of halting progress Myles realized it would take years to make a noticeable dent in the collection of books. This realization was both awe-inspiring and a bit daunting. How did one choose which book to read, when he might never get to read the other?

Outside of the library Myles learned and played decidedly one-sided games of chess with Rose and Kory, who also often joined him in the library. He joined them in practicing the schoolwork spells initially, but stopped shortly afterward. Kory was still struggling with magic and was embarrassed that Rose had to tutor him. Myles being there, with spells that tended to work on the first try even if they occasionally had explosive effects, clearly aggravated the situation.

Wanded magic, Myles felt, was bizarre. Without a wand, magic was vague, everywhere but so thin it was like grabbing smoke with his hands. Spurred by bouts of accidental magic at the Orphanage, Livian and Myles had experimented and explored magic. Once Livian had thought that hanging upside down for the tree for two hours would change the color of their hair, something that worked for Livian on occasion but never for Myles. Myles, on the other hand, had been convinced that three underwater flips and a spin would spell him to climb walls after falling into the sea, being thrown about by the waves, and climbing up the ward wall that ringed the Orphanage island. In attempting to replicate it, and nearly drowning again in the process, he was catapulted roughly back onto land.

He and Livian did eventually discover some small reproducible magic, though it was never consistent or easy. Performing even the smallest action, from turning a stone blue to unlocking a door, was a task of intense focus, concentration, and often teased out by blood. With a wand, however, a few motions and an incantation could do seemingly anything with the barest intent and focus. It felt like… cheating. Like it simply wasn't fair.

Though, Myles thought, if it took him as long as Kory to learn spells, he probably wouldn't feel that way. Despite not having touched a wand besides the makeshift one of Livian's hair only weeks ago, Myles competed at the top of the class in practical magic, though he was bested by those with both talent and training, such as the Malfoy twins and still had some trouble keeping up in Transfiguration. But, overall, Myles found wanded magic easy. He wondered if it was because he'd spent so long attempting, with partial success, magic without it in the Orphanage and if that was why he accidentally overpowered spells so often or if that was to blame on his unusual wand.

He attended the first Chess Club meeting with Rose and Kory but despite the encouragement, he couldn't help but feel that the animated discussion, the enthusiasm, about the game was a part of their world, one they fit neatly into and one in which he didn't belong.

The other club that Myles decided to attend was Dueling Club. He tried not to think about what drew him there, trying to avoid the guilt laden images of Ms. Lenore dueling in Lower Diagon Alley, exchanging spells and eventually collapsing under a building.

He tried, but he wasn't always successful. On his way to the first Dueling Club meeting for new members, Myles hand clenched subconsciously into a fist under his robes. His eyes were glued to the floor as he walked down to the club room, and he didn't notice as two figures approached him from the side.

One of them bumped into him hard in a blur of red and gold, and Myles jumped, letting out a sound that was definitely not a squeal. He looked up to see Lyla, already bent over laughing at him.

"You jumped like Scufy when he ate a chili powder flavored jelly bean! And what was that noise?" She teased, turning Myles's cheeks red. Cecilia, who was accompanying Lyla, smiled, not so much at Myles's embarrassment as at Lyla's antics.

"A squeal," came a condescending voice that didn't belong coming from an eleven year olds mouth.

"Though I was more startled by your laugh; I wondered if there was a dying hyena in the halls. How'd you get these otherwise sensible Ravenclaws to walk with you?" Tor asked, as he walked up behind them, completing his snide remarks with his cool and relaxed demeanor.

"Hello Tor," Cecilia responded, clearly unsurprised by the Slytherin boy's introduction. Tor was constantly stepping on the toes of the other House first-years with his sharp tongue. Occasionally he had the support of some of his housemates, but more often than not he was alone in his antagonism. Tor's aggravations were a constant whenever a professor turned their back. He was subtle enough to hide it from the professor and when his victim retaliated they often weren't. He had triggered a few under-powered skirmishes (few of the first-years knew spells that could do any harm) between Gryffindors, but he'd escaped the consequences every time.

"Come to duel Tor?" Lyla asked with a slight edge to her voice. Tor often targeted her but found little direct success against Lyla, who had a tough skin against both insults and pain, perhaps due in part to her childhood of playing hexem with older boys. Lyla had started to get frustrated, however, by Tor's casual, sometimes cruel, and often effective bullying of her friends and classmates.

"Don't be silly," Tor said dismissively. Lyla visibly grimaced and stamped her foot, annoyed that Tor was avoiding direct confrontation again. "We're first years, Flitwick and Longbottom will teach us some useless spell and pat our backs."

"Why are you here then?" Myles asked, his tone clearly stating "Leave." Tor reminded Myles of the worst of the other Orphanage children, only more snide and more, well, snakelike. Tor just shrugged and ignored him, content with annoying Lyla. He walked past them, Lyla glaring holes in the back of his robes.

"Where were you two anyways?" Myles asked, he'd never seen Lyla and Cecilia walking together.

"Detention," Lyla groaned. "I forgot to write the paper on the forms of Transfiguration and Professor Salem wasn't happy."

"And you, Cecilia?"

She blushed. "I got lost before curfew and Professor Calding found me. He gave me detention after leading me back to Ravenclaw."

Myles didn't quite buy Cecilia's innocent and mildly embarrassed blush. The Cecilia of Hogwarts wasn't the same bold and curious Cecilia he'd met in Knockturn Alley. She acted closer to the clueless girl she'd pretended to be when tricking her father to pay for Myles's wand. No one else seemed to notice the discrepancies in her behavior. Myles doubted he would have noticed had he not met what he thought of as the real Cecilia before.

She was a mystery, one that Myles didn't begin to understand. From the Sorting on Cecilia had maintained the facade of an innocent and, though talented, occasionally clueless girl. She listened eagerly to the infamous third-year Ravenclaw gossip Roslyn, shyly and tentatively raised her hand in class when Myles knew she knew the textbook response, and feigned a frailty that Myles thought might be real. On the occasions that he sat with her in the Great Hall she seemed more interested in moving her food around the plate than in eating it.

Myles had been surprised when she'd instantly switched personas in Diagon Alley but it had made sense; she had acted the way her father had seen her and for a goal. But here at Hogwarts the facade never stopped, only when they paired together in class did the other Cecilia show through, and there was no apparent goal. That Myles was the only she had allowed to see her other self only built her mystery and intrigue.

He suspected that, while he and Cecilia were very different people, the two of them were similarly separated from the rest of the first-years. The Hogwarts students were carefree. Their biggest worries consisted of their grades on yesterday's homework and the latest drama of their friends. Lectures on the dangers of magic and potential accidents were serious but, after all, no one had died at Hogwarts since the war. They were, Myles couldn't think of a better word to describe them, normal.

Cecilia pretended to be someone who fit in and she did it well. She was adored by the professors and well liked by the other students but none of that made her belong because it wasn't truly her. Myles, on the other hand, was like a misshapen puzzle piece. His unexplained past and conspicuously missing last name combined with the fact that all of Hogwarts had stared at him for several long silent minutes of Sorting made for jutted edges that didn't fit neatly in puzzle of Hogwarts.

He didn't know why Cecilia was different, her life seemed to fit the normal for the Wizarding world. Her mother had seemed a bit odd and perhaps her father was inattentive, but the two clearly cared for her. Myles didn't think it particularly involved them because Cecilia's father had believed the act; he seemed as ignorant about her as everyone else. Myles hadn't asked about her about it and he didn't plan to. He didn't want their tentative friendship, where Cecilia almost dropped her act around him, to fall apart.

"And we're here!" Lyla exclaimed, her annoyance at Tor disappearing completely as she hopped through the open door to the Dueling Club. Outside of the Great Hall, the room that hosted the Dueling Club was the largest room in Hogwarts and there were almost forty first-years inside.

Myles had found The Impact of the British Wizarding Wars in his search for books on modern history, which were rare in a library filled with books that were decades and hundreds of years old. It detailed in part the rise in the popularity of dueling, which it claimed was an after effect of the wars and modern rule changes. Dueling was now second only to Quidditch in popularity as a spectator sport and, unlike the House Quidditch teams, there was no limit to how many could join the Dueling club.

Only a few of the first-year Gryffindor students were missing, half of Slytherin was in was there, and well over a third of the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs were in attendance. The three of them walked into a fierce argument held by a mixed group of Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors.

"The reforms destroyed the suspense of Quidditch!" Elias claimed adamantly. "The game could end any minute, both the players and the crowd were on edge the whole time!".

"The game could be over in a minute!" Sam argued back. "Thousands of spectators come to watch the game, not the Snitch happening to fly right by the Seeker!"

"I like it!" Lyla interjected, stepping forward into the argument. "Chaser is the best position and now even the Seeker gets to play Chaser!"

"The Snitch changes were necessary," the normally restrained Ambrosia Malfoy argued adamantly. "But they didn't need to make the Quaffle faster."

Myles looked to Cecilia, the question clear in his eyes. He was familiar with Quidditch but only knew so much about it.

"The way Quidditch used to be played, it would end when the Seeker caught the Snitch. And catching the Snitch earned the team 150 points, so the team with the better or luckier Seeker usually won."

"The 2008 and 2012 World Cup finals both ended in less than five minutes, and the 2004 finals took three days. It was a mess for the Ministries and the Quidditch fans that went to see the matches. The International Quidditch Committee came out with reforms in 2012 to standardize the game and make teams less reliant on the Seeker."

"The reforms made it so that the game ends on the third catch of the Snitch, and each catch gives 50 points. They also changed the Snitch enchantments; it's nearly impossible to catch right after it's release because it's both harder to see and much faster. But it becomes brighter and slower as the game progresses, after an hour it practically glows and is much slower than it was before the reforms."

"There are no rules restricting the Seeker from handling or scoring with the Quaffle, so most teams pull their Seeker in as a fourth Chaser for the first fifteen or twenty minutes. A lot of people hate the rule changes, a lot of people love them." Cecilia shrugged, showing that she didn't particularly care either way. "Most of us can barely remember Quidditch before the reforms. They're mostly repeating their parents' opinions."

The debate continued strong as the rest of the Dueling Club attendees looked up to the Professor stepping up on the platform. Surprisingly, it wasn't Professors Flitwick or Longbottom, but Assistant Professor Calding, the wiry young man that helped large classes and taught a few of his own.

The Quidditch debate, which sounded like it might go on forever, was finally cut to and end as Professor Calding cleared his throat with a magically amplified cough. The rest of the class turned to face him, and Myles's first Dueling Club began.

* * *

**A/N: **Dueling Club Pt. 2 coming out Sunday afternoon.


	11. Chapter 11: Dueling Club Pt 2

**Chapter 11: Dueling Club Pt. 2**

"Detractors of dueling," Professor Calding began. "Often claim the sport is a brutal affair, encouraging the next generation to be quicker to draw and popularizing violence."

"The truth of dueling, however, is not that of a simple and hotheaded sport. It is an art, where dance and dexterity meet magical strength and intuition. These talents manifest uniquely in each duelist; take away a duelist's distinguishing characteristics and the movements and magic that form their dueling style will show their identity." There was a passion in Professor Calding's voice that was absent when assisting Professor Sewell in Transfiguration class.

"Andrej Dordevic makes dueling a game of shields. He utilizes his own to reflect his opponents' attacks back at them and turns his opponents' against them with powerful repertoire of shield corrupters and breakers.

The unflappable Frenchwoman Delphine Lisette never loses her composure. She uses her bottomless stockpile of spells to find the perfect spell for each situation.

Seasoned veteran Anej Aleks duels with a tight precision, flawless fundamentals, and a controlled pace that steadily overwhelms all but the best.

Our own contender, the young Hogwarts alumni Gideon Rafe, utilizes movement, both magical and mundane, to claim advantages on the platform. Where others shield, Rafe dodges, pulling ahead in tempo without the use of his wand.

I encourage everyone, even those who walk away from the Dueling Club in the months and years to come, to watch one of these duelists in action if you have the opportunity. Nothing, and no one, can showcase the beauty and complexity of dueling better."

Professor Calding beckoned over the six year Hufflepuff prefect standing to the side of the podium. "Mr. Lupin and I will perform a dueling demonstration. We will be using harmless spells and there is a ward around the podium; you are safe to watch."

Lupin gave a wave and a careless smile. He ran his hand through his long blonde hair and ripples of pink flowed out from his fingers, reminding Myles of Scufy's hair. There was a scattering of whispers and giggles in the first year crowd, admiring and gossiping about the tall and handsome Hufflepuff. Calding and Lupin approached the center of the podium and gave a low formal bow to each other.

They walked way from each other, turning back towards their opponent Their wands raised, their eyes met, and at a signal acknowledged by the two of them but unnoticed by the crowd of first years, began.

"Go Teddy!" Elias shouted, cheering as the duel kicked off.

Myles had seen Mrs. Lenore duel in Lower Diagon Alley, fighting off the two wizards chasing after him. He'd been amazed by the power and control of her magic and scared of the destructive spells and curses and two men had been throwing out. The duel between Professor Calding and Lupin, however, was an entirely different experience.

The fight in Lower Diagon Alley had been loud, explosive, and chaotic. Professor Calding and Lupin, on the other hand, were quiet, restrained, and controlled. The incantations shouted in Diagon Alley were spoken soundlessly behind closed lips here, the squeaking of shoes and rustling of robes filling the voiceless silence. The explosions of magic, which had combined with the screams of cracking wood and shattered stone, were replaced by the soft static of magic through the air and the low hum of shields.

There was too much going on in the duel for Myles to follow. Spells flowed faster than he'd ever seen before, the wandwork of Calding and Lupin made one spell flow seamlessly into another, all the while they moved: advancing, retreating, and dodging. Lupin seemed at least strained as he did so, a sheen of sweat forming on his forehead and needing to vocalize some of his spells. Calding, on the other hand, could have been enjoying a stroll by the Great Lake.

Myles watched the duel with dumbfounded fascination. A chill ran up his back, his stomach clenched, he couldn't blink. The fight in Lower Diagon Alley was childlike in comparison to duel of the two wizards before him. Watching it unfold both empowered and frightened Myles. He was in exactly in the right place to learn to defend himself, but the ceiling was so high that he couldn't imagine reaching it.

The duel didn't build to a climax; it ended as suddenly as it had started. Somewhere in the exchange of spells and shuffle of feet Professor Calding had pushed Lupin back on his heels and caught him flat footed with a stunner.

The first-years' silence slowly broke as Calding walked over to revenerate Lupin, excited and awed mutterings spreading through the crowd.

Professor Calding helped Lupin stand and turned to face the first-years, again clearing his throat to call for silence. "Most of you will not start on nonverbal spells until your sixth year and many of you will never reach dueling competency in nonverbals. Likewise, years of practice may never deliver the finger and wrist dexterity and magical capability needed to rapidly cast spells."

"Only a few of you have the potential to reach young Lupin here's level, and that potential will only be reached by years of dedication. If you're here dreaming of competing for Hogwarts on the platform but are only willing to put in a few hours a week at club, reconsider your choice of club."

None of the first years budged. They were still mesmerized by the demonstration, imagining themselves on the podium in Calding's and Lupin's shoes: dancing around magic, soundlessly casting spell after spell, and doing so with the same poise of their stance and with the same grace of their fingers. Professor Calding was unsurprised that his warning had been ignored.

"Today we will be learning one of the simplest, yet most effective dueling spells - the disarming charm."

Professor Calding and Lupin demonstrated the spell and had the first years split up into pairs to begin practicing. The room descended into a very loosely controlled chaos. Clumsy calls of 'Expelliarmus!' filled the room. Students, lacking the restraint they showed in class, sent their attempts at Disarming Charms into the air. Misspelled charms ruffled hair, tripped students, launched wands out of the casters hands, and on rare occasions, disarmed the caster's partner. The last of which happened to Myles, as Cecilia correctly cast the charm on her first try.

Myles hadn't quite caught the flick of the wand movement from watching the demonstration and his first few attempts failed, one of them wildly throwing Cecilia's hair up into the air and the rest doing nothing at all. Luckily for him, Cecilia was able to quickly correct him. The rest of the room, however, was a sea of chaos, the waves calming as Professor Calding, Lupin, and a Gryffindor girl that was also assisting Professor Calding slowly made their way through it.

"Nice one!" Lyla said, walking up to Myles as he took his turn disarming Cecilia.

"Do you want to make it more interesting?" Elias, Lyla's partner, grinned confidently at him. Myles shrugged, knowing that Elias and Lyla were going to make a competition out of it. The two of them loved and thrived in the Defence club, and were even more excited for dueling. He wasn't eager to lose his wand repeatedly but thought it might be good practice. He looked towards Cecilia, letting her decide.

"Why not?" Cecilia said, sparking a smile and an explanation from Lyla.

"Okay!" Lyla exclaimed, hopping in front of Cecilia and planting her feet in exaggerated motions. "We're going to play Stand and Hex, but only with Expelliarmus."

Myles and Cecilia both looked at Lyla blankly.

"Stand and Hex," Lyla repeated, as if that would suffice for explanation. "Where you stand and hex? First to move their feet loses."

"But we're only disarming each other." Cecilia said, confused. "If we lose by moving our feet, why would we move our feet?"

"Well, the first to lose their wand loses here." Lyla said.

"So if we aren't hexing each other and you don't win by standing in place, is it really Stand and Hex?" Myles asked, both to fluster Lyla and legitimately curious.

"You still lose if you move your feet!" Lyla protested. "Stand and Disarm then!"

"Let's go with that," Elias laughed. "Cecilia and Lyla are up first. I'll signal the start... Go!"

Cecilia was surprisingly fast to cast, and her Disarming charm went off first. Lyla, on the other hand, moved more than Myles would have thought possible for a game in which moving your feet was against the rules. She was ducking as soon as Elias's "go" left his mouth, casting the charm while falling until her chest hugged her legs. Cecilia's charm missed and her wand flew out her hand a moment later, clattering on the ground behind her.

Elias confidently stepped up to face the victorious Lyla, taking a stance that resembled Calding and Lupins' and motioning for Myles to give the signal. He waited a moment for them to be ready and gave the call.

Elias's disarming charm was a league apart from the other first years', a practiced motion of his hand and wrist that was a rough mimicry of the wand motions of Lupin and Calding. He was prepared for Lyla to duck again too, but for all that he wasn't ready for the twisting motion Lyla performed, throwing herself down to the side and catching herself with her off-hand.

"That was a good charm, Elias. Doesn't do much good if it doesn't land though," The sixth year Hufflepuff Lupin grinned, snatching Elias's wand out of the air. Elias turned towards him, his face flushing lightly with embarrassment.

"I know, Teddy." Elias groaned.

"It's impressive to move like that and still cast on target," Teddy said to Lyla. "But you should focus on the fundamentals right now. Try again without moving. Who's next?"

Myles stepped up with an edge of trepidation. His hand, suddenly palmy, gripped his wand. If he couldn't beat his fellow first-years, how was he going to defend himself against the men from Lower Diagon Alley?

"Go!" Teddy called. Myles rushed to cast, shorting the upwards crescent motion of the charm, losing control of the flick that ended the wand movement, and speaking an incantation closer to "Expeliamus" than "Expelliarmus".

White flashed in front of him. A gust of fast moving air rushed out of his wand. A violent crack rang off the far wall, the noise filling the entire room and turning everyone's heads towards the center. Myles's wand sailed through the air, Lyla's charm yanking it out of his hand, and landed besides a shocked Teddy and Elias.

"Woah, there," Teddy called, streaks of red in his hair but otherwise calm. "Haven't seen that a disarming charm go that wrong before."

Teddy flicked his wand Myles's, and Myles's wand flew up to his clammy fingers. "Take a deep breath and try it again, without the game this time."

Myles looked down at his wand, afraid to cast the charm again out of fear for what might happen to the recipient of his magic. He glanced up at Lyla and saw her unfaltering smile. She gave him a confident nod, encouraging him on. Myles was stunned for a moment; any sane person would want to step out of the way of the uncontrolled magic he had just released. Yet there was no doubt in Lyla's mind that Myles would cast a controlled Disarming charm. Her confidence and belief was oddly reassuring; he could almost forget his failed spell and the many first-years looking towards him as a consequence of it.

Myles's fingers eased on his wand, his throat loosened, and he moved to cast again. "Expelliarmus!"

Lyla's wand flew neatly, if a bit powerfully, out of her hand. The pressure Myles hadn't realized was on his chest eased and the first-years that had been watching after being distracted by Myles's misfire turned back to learning and practicing the charm.

"Much better, but focus on smoothing out the upwards crescent and not holding the 'aaar' for too long," Teddy said, sending Lyla's wand flying back up to her. "Try to disarm each other again on my signal."

"…Go!"

"Expelliar-" Myles's spell was cut off as Lyla's disarming charm threw his wand into the air. Just like Teddy had said, he had held the "aaar" sound too long and was too slow for Lyla.

"Not bad, keep working at it and you'll catch up to your friends in no time." Teddy commended before looking towards Cecilia. "Let's see the last contestant in this little game."

The two faced each other under Teddy's supervision. Lyla's eyes were lit up with excitement, the same glow they held in the competitions in Defense Club that she won more than anyone. Cecilia was her normal collected self, but Myles thought he could see her getting into the friendly game. Cecilia had cast her disarming charm faster than Lyla last time, but Lyla had been ducking as she'd cast. Myles wasn't sure who would win now that Lyla was standing still but casting faster.

"Expelliarmus!"

"Expelliarmus!"

Cecilia's motion and voice were smooth and consistent through the spell. Lyla's upwards swish and beginning vowels were slow while her finishing flick and "iarmus" came in much faster. Their wands didn't move in unison and their voices didn't make sound the vowels together, but their charms finished at the same time.

Perhaps one of them finished faster than the other, but both of them finished their Disarming charms before their wands were torn from their hands. The two of them were left empty-handed and surprised, unaware that a tie could happen.

"An interesting group you have here Elias," Teddy grinned at them. "If the four of you keep at it you'll all be out of the twelfth in no time."

"The tenth?" Myles asked as Teddy moved on to the next couple of first years.

"The ranking for Dueling Club!" Lyla exclaimed. She was always excited when she explained something, perhaps because she was rarely in a position to do so in class. "There are twelve ranks to move up."

Elias rolled his eyes at Lyla's poor explanation. "It separates students by skill instead of by year. There are too many students in Dueling Club to have everyone in the room practicing at the same time so they split practices by rank. The twelfth is just for first-years and there are rarely any third-years in the eleventh, the competition only really starts when you reach the tenth."

"Who's still in?" Elias asked, stepping up. Both Cecilia and Lyla stepped aside for the other, but Lyla was surprisingly adamant that Cecilia should stay in after their tie.

Elias proceeded to run through them with ease, proving his loss to Lyla at the beginning was a fluke. Myles didn't think it was talent so much as technique; he had clearly learned it before, no doubt from the expansive Weasley-Potter family that somehow included Teddy Lupin. They started rotating instead of keeping the winner in, though Myles still had little luck.

He won a couple of times, though he counted them as flukes, before Elias looked down at his watch. "Blimey, Lyla, Quidditch tryouts are starting."

"Let's go!" Lyla laughed, running past Elias without a moment's hesitation. Elias rushed to catch up to her, leaving Myles and Cecilia watching the two Gryffindors running through the crowd of practicing first-years.


	12. Chapter 12: Albus - Green and Silver

**Chapter 12: Green and Silver**

_**Albus**_

* * *

Quidditch Definitions:

Checking - In cannon, checking is an interception of the Quaffle. In this universe, however, it means to fly up alongside an opponent player. Two Seekers side by side chasing the Snitch in front of them could be said to be in check. Checking is also common for Chasers, where defending Chasers will check offensive Chasers in order to slow them or stop them from flying into them as well as trying to steal the Quaffle in check.

Front - Moving in front of a Chaser to block a shot on goal or stop them from moving forward. Generally done from a check position, it is usually performed to attempt to block or pressure a Chaser's shot on goal. A risky maneuver that can lead to a wide open shot if the Chaser avoids the front or a collision if they don't, although this would draw a blatching call (see below).

Blatching (canon) - A Quidditch foul when a player flies with the aim to collide with another.

* * *

Albus, better known as Al, hated Hogwarts.

He'd thought coming to Hogwarts would be a chance to finally get away from his brother and many older cousins. Al always ended up the butt of the joke, the only one not in on the prank. He had thought for a while that it was because he was younger and an easy target. Yet Elias, only a couple months older than him, was always willingly involved in the mischief.

In the year before coming to Hogwarts, Al had come to realize the truth; he just didn't fit in with his family. He'd hoped Hogwarts would be different. He'd hoped he'd find friends and a place to belong here, just like his dad had described finding when he'd boarded the Hogwarts Express.

His hopes hadn't diminished when he'd been Sorted into Slytherin. Al had thought that going to a different House than the rest of his family could be a good thing. The positive attitude, however, hadn't lasted long.

Slytherin was made up of a few inflated egos and a number of groveling followers. Almost half of the Slytherin first-years flocked around Ambrose, drawn by his money, status, looks, and tutored talent. Even Phillip, a Muggleborn, tried his best to fit into Ambrose's group with mixed success. Another third, largely girls annoyed by Ambrose's arrogance, gravitated towards Thalia, who was as haughty as she was ice cold. The rest of Slytherin, too brutish to even recognize they should suck up to the "king" and "queen" of their house, followed Tor.

The last group was the only one Al hated, but he received little love from the others. Ambrose and his followers treated him politely enough, but once Ambrose had realized Al wasn't nearly as talented as the Potter name was famous, he'd largely been ignored. Thalia's group kept their distance, adopting their leader's haughty attitude. Tor liked to flaunt his power over his fellow first years, but he largely kept his attentions turned outside the House and Al stayed out of his way.

Once again he was alone, now amongst his Housemates rather than his family. He hadn't written back home since being Sorted, knowing that his mom and dad were worried but having nothing he could write but lies to reassure them.

It didn't help that he was constantly compared to his dad, the famous 'Harry Potter.' When he'd failed to cast the Disarming Charm in his first attempts at the Dueling Club last night, it was remarked with surprise that it was his dad's signature spell. Such comments were commonplace, thoughtless remarks that only Al would remember. He wondered if that was why James had turned into a notorious prankster, to define himself outside of his last name.

Stepping out onto the Quidditch field, he wondered if he was doing the same thing. He may not be the most talented wizard, the best duelist, or the most studious student, but he could fly.

It'd been a source of an embarrassment that he'd been stuck on the kids broom until he was almost ten. He'd been a late bloomer, and hadn't had the magic to power a full wizard's broom. James and Fred, out of earshot of the parents, had convinced Al that he was a Squib. Al had spent many sleepless nights wondering where he would go if not Hogwarts, wondering what it would be like to live like a Muggle and hating his brother and cousin.

When he could finally ride a wizard's broom, specifically the 5 0 SweepFly housed in the shed, he'd been excited to join in on the Quidditch game played at the weekly Potter-Weasley gathering. Over the course of the game: James had spelled his broom to reverse the controls and nearly cause Al to plummet to the ground, Fred tossed a stink bomb at him as he reached out to grab the Quaffle, and Teddy, who Al though was in on it at the time but likely didn't notice that Al was dealing with the aftermath of the pranks, had barked for him to come back quicker on the defensive rotation. Al had only been ten, but he got the message loud and clear; he wasn't wanted there.

He'd taken to flying by himself, inspired by stories of his mom sneaking off to do the same and then surprising everyone by making the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Al's mom had quickly found him out of course, but she agreed to not only keep his practice a secret but to teach him techniques and maneuvers. He couldn't have said exactly why he didn't want to tell his dad, though deep down he knew.

The broom in his hand, taken for the school shed for tryouts, was old and splintered. The older students got first pick of the school brooms and first-years were lucky to get a broom at all. Al wasn't sure it would even fly until the Slytherin captain, a large beater with a loud voice, called for them to lap the field and he took into the air.

It wasn't as fast as the 5 0 SweepFly back home. It didn't handle as well. The rough wood hurt his hands. The stick wobbled when he accelerated to a reasonable speed. It almost made Albus wish for his old toy broom, but it would have to do. This was his once chance to prove himself, to make something of himself besides Harry Potter's son.

Lament, the captain, cut a number of the Quidditch team hopefuls during laps alone. Al watched them walk grumpily back to the castle from he sat on his uncomfortable and uncushioned school broom. He considered trying for one of their brooms, but didn't think they'd be gracious enough.

"We're doing breakaway drills! Keepers! To the posts! Chasers! Two even lines in front of me! Beaters! Go with Sid!" Lament shouted at them, wasting no time with his instructions.

"What about Seekers?" A wheedly third-year asked, clearly uncomfortable with the snort that Lament gave him in reply.

"If you want to Seek you better prove you can Chase first, line up!"

Al was vaguely familiar with breakaway drills, they involved one offensive Chaser, one defensive Chaser, and a Keeper. The aim was clear enough, score on offense and take or stop the Quaffle on defense. He happened to be in the offensive line first, which meant he had to catch the Quaffle, bypass the defender, and score on the Keeper. It was by far the harder role.

When his turn was up next, Al stood with one foot planted on the ground and his other leg on his broom. Lament shouted "Go!" and he was off, pushing himself into the air with his leg and accelerating as fast as the broom would allow. The Quaffle had been thrown out to his right and he sped towards it. Al, approaching the Quaffle, broke his sideways momentum while still pushing his broom forwards. He reached out to grab the Quaffle while turning his head to get his bearings on the defending Chaser. Al tried to bring his sideways momentum to a halt as he got his hand on the Quaffle and began to pull it in, but the broom didn't respond. He had positioned his body in anticipation of the brake, and when it didn't come he was left off balance. He nearly dropped the Quaffle and was forced into an awkward dive to keep it in his hand and regain his balance.

Al rose from the dive with his face burning red and moved to take on the coming defender, who had realized there was no way Al could overtake him with his inferior broom and advanced to check him. He was much larger than him, and bumped into Al when he reached him. Al rolled with the hit, keeping hold of the Quaffle and spinning under the defender. A mess of maneuvers followed to get Al in range of the posts, as he couldn't pull ahead of the defender no matter well he flew. The defender moved to front Al as he got closer, and Al decided to make his move, knowing that he wouldn't get a clear shot on the posts with the longer defender blocking angles.

Al initiated contact, bumping into the larger defender and taking the momentum when he was pushed back. He made the same maneuver he had in the beginning of the breakaway, but this time, so close to the goal, the defender was forced to follow him and Al corkscrewed into open air. Or he would have, if his broom hadn't hitched and rushed his throw on goal. The Keeper batted the approaching Quaffle away with ease, and Al returned to the lines shamefaced.

"Breakaway drill, Potter! Not dance around!" Lament bellowed at him as he returned to join the defense line.

Al landed and peeled his hands off his broom. Peeled, because his hands were caked with blood and splinters of wood cracked off as his hands pulled off the broomstick. Al grimaced and began pulling slivers of wood out of his hand. It hurt, but he wasn't bothered. James, for all his talk and pranks, was the baby when he got hurt. Rather than moan about his hands, he thought about how he was going to manage to score and defend on the slowest and least reliable broom on the field as he pulled splinters of wood out of his hands.

The answer on defense was clear, he had a window of time to get ahead when the other Chaser flew to catch the Quaffle. Al didn't like it, his small frame was better suited to checking and harassing the Chaser than fronting, but it was better than nothing. He was still thinking about how he might score when his turn came and Lament shouted for him to go.

He gripped his broomstick and shot off, racing to the goal posts as the other Chaser flew to catch the Quaffle. Al lucked out, the other Chaser must have barely made it past laps, and almost got his hand on the Quaffle. As it was, the shot went wide of the goal and the Keeper didn't even need to stop it.

Al joined the offensive Chaser line for the second time, thinking and thinking and looking at his bloody hands for inspiration and thinking and finding nothing. He shot off into the air without any better ideas than the first time, and now he was matched against a larger and more competent opponent. Al was sure that the other Chaser had played on the Slytherin team last year. He looked more than comfortable in the air, rode his own broom, and would have been a serious challenge had Al been riding a legitimate broom.

Al caught the Quaffle without fumbling this time, but going much slower than he would've liked, and flew for the posts. The other Chaser pulled up to check him and Al braced himself for the bump that always went uncalled in Quidditch matches. The ensuing collision, however, was far more than a bump. Al was nearly thrown off his broom and barely held onto the Quaffle. If they had been in a game, the collision would either have been called blatching or sent the crowd and team into an uproar. The other Chaser reached for the Quaffle immediately. Al held his arm out and away from him and twisted down so that he was upside down and looking up at the other Chaser.

The maneuver bought him some time, but the Chaser dove right at him. He clearly didn't mind the possibility of colliding again, but Al preferred that he made it back down to the ground on his own volition and narrowly dodged away from him.

But the defending Chaser didn't quit, going straight at Al again and again. He managed to narrowly avoid him twice, and nearly lost the Quaffle on the third time as the other Chaser punched it out of his hands and Al caught it half by luck before it could fly away. He wasn't making much progress towards the posts either, not with him flying to avoid rather than score. Al fought to buy himself a moment to breathe and took it look over his situation.

A barely functional broomstick, bleeding hands that threatened to fuse into the wood, and a clearly blatching Chaser out for his head. It started to get to Al's head. Maybe it was because he grew up with an older brother and countless cousins that constantly played pranks on him, but Al rarely got angry. The last time he could remember being truly livid was his first bout of accidental magic well over a year ago.

James had stolen his toy broomstick and Al had chased him through the house, rewarded for his efforts by stick bombs, sharp pins that stuck in his foot, and a slime ball that caused him to fall down the stairs. When he finally cornered James in the kitchen, Al was seeing red. James's smile had disappeared as soon as he turned and looked at Al, seeing the state he was in and the pure fury on his face, and realizing he had gone too far. The kitchen had exploded, largely at James, and their parents counted it as lucky that there wasn't a knife embedded in him. Afterwards, Al had regretted that he'd lost control, but he didn't mind that James had largely left him alone after the kitchen incident.

In the air at Slytherin Quidditch tryouts, Al wasn't quite seeing red, but he was beyond frustrated. If blatching's the game, then let's blatch.

The Chaser was to Al's right now, and the posts were ahead to his left. A plan came to mind as the Chaser moved to collide with him again and Al just hoped his broom could follow it. He feigned a rise, convincingly enough that the Chaser adjusted for it, and instantly dipped and braced. The Chaser's broomstick hit his back and both of them were sent spinning, but Al was prepared for it. He wrested control back from his broom and flew straight at the Chaser. Al saw the Chaser's eyes widen right before he turned to collide with him side to side. The Chaser all but lost control of his broom and there was nothing but open air between Al and the Keeper. Al knew he didn't have the greatest scoring arm, but he was accurate and the Keeper guarding against him didn't look to be the Slytherin starter.

It was only after scoring that Al considered that Lament and the Chaser, who had all too likely been on the team last year, might take offense at his blatant disrespect for the rules of Quidditch.

"Potter!" Lament shouted at him and Al's stomach dropped. "Go to our locker room, wrap your hands, and grab one of our spare brooms."

Al didn't comprehend at first, but once he did he shot towards the ground to run towards... where? He looked around, including at the Chaser he'd ran into, who grinned and pointed him in the right direction. Al continued to descend so that he could run... why would he run when he could fly there?

Knowing he looked like a fool, a red faced Al made a beeline for the locker room. He dropped down and walked into a surprisingly nice silver, green, and dark wood locker room. Al dropped his broom on a holder and looked for tape for his hands. Quidditch players were no strangers to injury, and medical supplies were prominently displayed in the Slytherin locker room. He treated his hands, which had been torn up even more from his latest set of stunts, as quickly as he could. Al grabbed one of the spare broomsticks on the rack and mounted it at the door. Al still preferred the 5 0 SweepFly that he knew and loved, but riding a responsive broom after that disaster of a glorified stick was nothing but elating.

There were fewer players on the field when he returned, which didn't particularly surprise Al considering how many Lament had cleared out after laps alone. There were twenty or so left, and twelve or so in the pool of Chasers and Seekers. They would take at least eight of them so that the Slytherin team could run full scrimmages. Which meant there only a few more to go.

"Potter!" Lament bellowed. "You're up again, scoring! Vain, defence!"

Vain, the Chaser who he'd just flown against, flew to the front of the defense line as Al went to the offense line. He knew it looked silly but he tested out his broom as he approached: a sharp dive, a hard turn, and a quick roll. It would do.

"Score here and you're on the team, Potter!" Lament called and Al looked over with surprise before checking on his opponents. Vain, the Chaser, had come off as brutish on their last drill but he looked dead serious now. The Keeper at the posts, who looked like a full grown man, rested confidently on his broom. Al held little doubt that this was the starting Slytherin didn't matter that the odds were stacked against him though, all he had to do was score and he had made it. A first year on the Quidditch team was a rarity; they still talked about his dad making the Gryffindor team in his first year at Hogwarts.

He took a deep breath, gripped his bandaged hands on his broom, adjusted his grip, and lowered his body to his broom. Al shot off as soon Lament opened his mouth to yell "Go!". He caught the Quaffle without sparing it so much as a glance, keeping his eyes ahead as he successfully broke hard sideways and kept his forward momentum on the new broom. Vain flew ahead, playing a much more conservative defense now that Al was on a real broom.

Al didn't realize it as he sped over the Quidditch field, but he was smiling. The pain of his hands on the broom and the soreness that ran across his ribs didn't take away from the joy of air rushing past him and a challenge ahead.

He tried to blow by Vain, thinking for a moment that Vain had misjudged his speed. Al didn't get that lucky; Vain matched with a burst of acceleration that put him right next to Al. Vain wasn't blatantly blatching this time, but Al was betting he was still going to play the edge of legality when it came to physical contact. Al staked his spot on the team on it, braking hard in the moment before contact. They collided, Al's center of mass against Vain's lower body. He was knocked to the side pushed slightly off balance, but Vain was thrown into a full spin that left only open air and a Keeper between Al and the posts.

He didn't waste any time, Vain would doubtlessly recover and look to block his shot from behind. If Al acted quickly, it was just him and the Keeper. That was still no easy feat; he was easily the best Keeper at tryouts and would no doubt win this contest if Al played it straight up. Al dipped just slightly to the right, but not so slightly that it wasn't noticeable, and raised his to throw the Quaffle. As his arm started the throwing motion he, with only one hand on the broom, shifted suddenly up and to the left, finishing his throw aiming for the far edge of the bottom left post. It went better than he could've asked for. The Keeper bought his subtle feint to the right and had leaned heavily into defending it and his throw had been perfect, just inside the leftmost portion of the circle.

His heart soared with the Quaffle, watching it fly inevitably towards the open goal.

And came crashing down as an outreached hand reached the Quaffle inches from the post. Fingertips brushed the leather ball and deflected it into the goal post. It clanged against the metal and dropped slowly down to the ground.

Al, downcast, returned to the lines, the exhilaration of flying draining out of him. The image of the Quaffle being deflected played over and over again in his head, the hand coming out of nowhere to dash his hopes.

"Chasers! Seekers! Tryouts are over!" Lament called.

"Potter! Dramon! Hedges!" Al's heart sunk at being listed, next he would be told to leave and the field and he'd have nothing at Hogwarts. No friends and nothing to belong to, not truly even the Slytherin House. "Team Green Chasers!Vain Seeker!"

Al didn't comprehend the words at first, didn't understand that he was still expected to play on the field. Lament listed three Chasers and a Seeker again for a second team, but Al was too shocked to register them.

"The rest of you can leave! Tryouts are over!" Lament's words lacked any measure of compassion or empathy but they might've been the sweetest words Al had ever heard.

"He said if you scored you'd make the team, not that you were off if you didn't," Vain laughed at his expression as he flew up to eye level. "You fly with serious balls, Potter; I like you already!"

"Let's blitz these halfwits. I hope we're against Vace, no one shows more of a challenge at the posts." Vain grinned at Al, who had gotten past his confusion and was now smiling stupidly wide at him.

"You're barmy Potter," Vain laughed again at Al's new expression. "Come on, Lament has our team assembled."

Al followed Vain to his practice team and donned a green overrobe with the rest of them. All fourteen players had already been decided, just enough to run full practice games. It was quick, but what little Al had seen of Lament had shown that he wasn't one to waste time or mince words. Most of the them were returning players from last years' team anyways. Al noted that the second youngest player, a Keeper, was a third year.

The Green and Silver practice match started, and it lasted for four full hours. Al learned that Lament was obsessed with winning the Quidditch cup this year, to repeat Slytherin's success from last year. He wasn't content even when they finished, despite everyone sagging on their brooms and playing much slower and sloppier Quidditch than they had to start.

Al had to admit he was behind the other Slytherin players. He was still confident he could match any of them in the air, but playing Quidditch was about more than just flying. You had to be able to work with the other Chasers, flying in set formations that were proven to work on offense and defense and coordinating plays wordlessly with each other. Al had little practice playing with other players, much less a full team, and was often out of step with his Chasers and Beaters. He tried his best to make up for it, harassing and managing several steals on defense, and making a few plays on offense that left the Silver team Chasers in the dust.

Al's other weakness was glaringly obvious. He didn't have the arm to throw the Quaffle as fast or hard as the other Chasers. As a result, his passes were often unexpectedly intercepted and his shots on goal were saved in the nick of time. Al wasn't alone with his shots on goal though, Vace was an incredible Keeper and it took miraculous shots to get the Quaffle past him. Green team instead relied on teamwork, beating the Silver Chasers and forcing Vace to cover two or three of them at once.

They played the standard strategy for Seeker/Chaser play, with the Seeker playing as a fourth Chaser for the first fifteen to twenty minutes of the Snitch and then breaking off to hunt for it. They rotated Seekers every time it was caught, and Al was proud that he managed to snag the Snitch on his turn from right under the Silver team's Seeker's nose while narrowly avoid a Bludger.

When both Seekers spotted the Snitch and made a run for it, the Slytherin Beaters showed just how good they were. Lament and Sid, both clearly the starters and playing on Green team, dueled with the Silver Beaters, who were impressive in their own right. The two Bludgers shot back and forth in a dangerous expedition of skill that caused the Seekers to focus too much on dodging to catch up to the Snitch. It didn't happen every time, of course, the Bludgers and the Beaters had to be near the Seekers to be so effective, but it happened surprisingly often.

Al's hands were burning when they finished, enough to bother even him. He struggled to loosen his grip on the broom, where his bloody bandage covered hands had been locked for hours. A hiss of pain escaped him as he opened them. Ignoring it, he dismounted at the Slytherin locker room and hopped onto solid ground. He nearly gasped at the experience, had his body been hurting like this the whole time flying?

Al pushed the pain aside with a grimace and put the broom under his arm so he wouldn't have to carry it with his hands. He walked into the Slytherin locker room and nearly ran into the huge wall that was Lament.

"Potter," he grunted, taking the broom under Al's arm and putting it back on the rack. It was the first time Al had heard him speak without shouting and the deep sound still reverberated throughout the room. "Bandage up your hands but don't go to Pomfrey. She raises hell with the team when we send her players."

"Yes, captain," Al said; he could handle a bit of pain.

"Good," Lament said, walking past him and taking his leave. Al had been right when he had guessed Lament wasn't one to mince words; there hadn't been so much as an introductory speech to the new members of the team.

"Hey," Vain grinned at him and beckoned him over with a nod of his head. There was an unclaimed locker next to him that Al figured was as good as any. "He's testing you, ya know. Pomfrey can be a right witch, but Lament wants to know you're all the way in. He takes Quidditch seriously."

"I'm in," Al replied, exhaustedly but seriously looking Vain in the eye.

"Have I said that I like you Potter?" Vain smirked. "Barmy, you are, but I like you."

Al, smiling at the older student's declaration, began to peel the bandages off his hands. They didn't look good; the skin that hadn't been pierced by splinters, and there had been quite a few, had chafed red from the rough wood and was made worse by playing for hours afterwards.

Vain whistled at his uncovered hands. "Worse than I thought. I might be able to snag a Cut Curing Cream for you, I'll let you know."

"Thanks," Al said to his new teammate. "But I'll be fine, it's nothing."

Vain shook his head and walked to the locker room exit. "Right mental, these first years."

Al re-wrapped his hands and filled a pocket with extra, knowing that he'd have to unwrap the before showering. He walked to his dormitory, passing through the Slytherin common room unnoticed or more likely, ignored. None of his dorm mates were there, and Al grabbed his pajamas and went straight to the bathroom. He pulled off his robes and looked at himself in the mirror. Both of his sides were red from checking and minor collisions, but the side he had rammed into Vain with was a dark and heavy red. He touched the skin there and winced.

Showering wasn't fun.

Ambrose, Al thought of him as Arrogance in his head, was changing into his pajamas when he walked out. He was content for them to ignore each other, but he must have noticed Al's awkward walk to his bed.

"Are you well, Albus?" Arrogance still didn't call him 'Al.' To his credit though, he really did seem a smidge concerned.

"I'm fine, Ambrose," Al said, making an effort to stand normally and hide his hands in his pajamas.

"Tryouts, huh? Well, you couldn't have expected to make the House team, first-years almost never do." Ambrose replied, thankfully taking Al's word and leaving him be.

Al felt a rush of pride at Arrogance's misguided consolation. He made it to his bed, pulled the curtains around him, and fell asleep almost before he laid down his head. It was the first time in a long time he'd fallen asleep with a smile on his face. He would write back home tomorrow.


	13. Chapter 13: A Pot of Dragons' Bed

**Chapter 13: A Pot of Dragons' Bed**

"Panthens, also known as the Dragons' Bed, are medeicresce flora, which means it's a plant that reacts to the presence of stray magic."

Myles looked down at his panthen, a tiny green sprout that wouldn't have made so much as a pillow for any dragons larger than his pinkie finger. It was the fourth Friday of class, and the fourth double period of Herbology. All four Houses were there, split on the four work tables that lined the large greenhouse. Rose and Kory stood to his right and Alexa Collins, a clever Ravenclaw Muggleborn that Myles got along well with, was to his left.

"Panthens will only grow, spread their seeds, and germinate if there's magic around them," Professor Longbottom continued. "They react best to wild magic, and prefer both a consistent and large source of it. As such, they're most commonly found blanketing the ground of dragon nests, where they earn their name as the Dragons' Bed."

The first-years looked at their tiny green sprouts with a great deal more respect.

"They are used in a few high-level potions, but are too rare for common use. Because of their need for wild magic to grow, they're difficult to cultivate like other magical plants and they're dangerous to harvest in the wild. Not only are they found almost exclusively in dragon nests, dragons are often protective of the panthens in their nest, known to attack harvesters even after they've left the nest."

"Yes, Miss Collins?" Professor Longbottom said, his scarred but friendly face looking at Alexa's eagerly upraised hand.

"If panthens only grow around dragons, how will these grow?" Alexa asked.

"A good question," Professor Longbottom smiled. Rose frowned at Alexa, doubtlessly wondering why she hadn't been the one to ask it.

"Stray magic from Wizarding youth is similar to the magic magical animals give off. Each of you will be expected to carry your panthen with you to class and meals to give them magic exposure."

The first-years began to talk amongst themselves: some already complaining about how having to carry the plant around was going to be a pain and others wondering what a grown panthen looked like. Rose, on the other hand, was already raising her hand high into the air.

"What will will growing panthens teach us, Professor Longbottom?"

"Great question, Ms. Weasley. Dragons' Bed can be as tricky and unpredictable as the creatures that sleep on it. That said, it requires little care beyond exposure to wild or adolescent magic. Growing these panthens will be a novel and exciting project to introduce you to Herbology."

"Is it dangerous?" A worried Slytherin asked.

"There have been no recorded panthen injuries, but I'll be monitoring the growth of your panthens closely. For reasons yet known, panthens can take wildly different forms. Some Herbologists have theorized that it grows to match the magic around it but, even if that's true, we still don't understand the details of it or how to control it. This project will not only teach you to care for flora, but further the reach of Herbology itself." Professor Longbottom explained. His obvious excitement and animated expressions were contagious and the students who were just complaining about having to carry the pot around were looking at their panthens with an edge of wonder.

Professor Longbottom spent the rest of the class explaining how they would care for their panthens. He'd grown a couple the previous year, becoming the first Herbologist to grow panthens outside of the wild, which meant he'd had experience with the plants and could explain how he'd learned to best care for them.

"Isn't this exciting?" Rose asked as the class came to an end. "It's like doing real Herbology research!"

"It is really cool, but it's all so wishy washy, so... unscientific," Kory said, finally landing on his last word. Myles has heard Kory mention the word 'scientific' before, but he still had no idea what it meant.

"I don't see what this has to do with Muggle magic," Rose said, frowning.

"The scientific method isn't 'muggle magic'," Kory began. "It's a methodology for understanding the natural world, a way to minimize the effect of human bias and produce reproducible results."

Myles, lost already, looked to Alexa but found she was also absorbed in the conversation.

* * *

Al had just barely managed to pull himself out of bed in the morning. He had surreptitiously slipped on his school robes and a pair of thin winter gloves when he saw the coast was clear. He was lucky he slept in the far bed, because if he'd changed in the middle of the room his dorm mates would've seen the sickening bruises that ran down his side.

Getting up had become worth the pain and effort as soon as he saw the the Slytherin lineups posted on the announcement board. His name, in unassuming black ink, had stood alongside thirteen others. Vain had called him over to sit with him at breakfast, something Al realized wasn't going to be a regular occurrence but appreciated all the same. The arm Vain had thrown around his shoulders, however, hadn't been appreciated by his aching side. Vain smiled knowingly at Al's gloves, and when one of the fourth-years asked why he was wearing he mentioned they had Warming Charms and left it awkwardly at that.

The single period Charms class that followed was interesting. The other first-years hadn't approached him at lunch, not when he was sitting with fourth and fifth years, but they were more interested in him than the Flame Dampening Charm Professor Abbott was trying to teach them. Even Arrogance and the Queen congratulated him.

It felt good. They weren't coming up to him because his dad was the Head Auror or the most famous wizard in Britain; they were noticing him because he had earned a spot on the team. He almost forgot about his side, until the painful moment he had to stand up and walk to Herbology.

Dragons' Bed sounded interesting, but Al barely listened to Professor Longbottom over the constant pain of his side. He just wished he could sit down, but there were no chairs in Herbology. Bethany, who sat to his left, and Phillip, who sat to his right, were being particularly talkative to him considering they'd never shared more than a few words before and he struggled to keep track of and respond normally to their conversation.

He was relieved when the class ended, except now he had to walk all the way to the Great Hall. And he had to carry this cursed plant. Al began to walk out of the greenhouse, only half paying attention to the conversation around him, before he was interrupted by by a trio of unexpected first-years.

"Al! Some talent you've been hiding on the broom, eh?" Elias asked, smiling broadly. "I'm going to have to cheer against you, but congrats."

"Thanks," Al said, noting the intense look of the Gryffindor girl besides Elias. He knew of Lyla of course, not that they'd ever spoken to each other. She was never in his group in Defence Club, but she was always in Ambrose, Thalia, and Tor's group and that did not make her popular with Arrogance, the Queen, and the Imp. Losing to Elias, a member of a prominent and longstanding pureblood family, was one thing. Losing to a dirt poor witch of questionable blood status was another. For no other reason than that she annoyed the Slytherin ringleaders; Al liked her.

"You're not alone though," Elias grinned, and Al wondered, for a horribly humbling and jealous moment, if Elias had made the Gryffindor team. "Lyla made the team too."

Al looked at the new Gryffindor player with only slightly guilty relief. Defence Club, dueling, and now Quidditch: a prodigy of magic and athleticism. She was looking at him with an uncomfortably serious expression and she held her hand out in a solemn and formal manner. Self conscious and a little uncomfortable, Al shook it. She gripped his hand tight and shook hard. Not only had his hand been torn up from riding the school broom, Al realized that his he had extended the arm on hurt side. He winced at the jarring pain of his hand and side.

Lyla's expression changed in an instant, from almost comically serious to a friendly concern. "Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine," Al tried to smile it off, but Lyla still held his hand and it still hurt. She frowned at him and tightened her grip on his extended hand, shaking hard. Al gasped, bringing his free hand to his side.

"You should go to Madam Pomfrey, mate," Elias said. "Teddy, Fred, and James have gone loads of times and she fixes them right up."

"I'm fine, really. I don't need to go to the infirmary," Al resisted, but Bethany and Phillip were still listening in and he knew that all of Slytherin would know he was hurt and trying to hide it by the end of lunch.

He didn't expect that the light coming on in Lyla's eyes would be his saving grace.

* * *

"Myles! Over here!"

Myles turned his head to see Lyla calling out to him, dragging an uncomfortable Albus Potter behind her. He remembered Albus from Mrs. Lenore introducing him to the Potters at Fortescue's Ice-Cream Parlour but hadn't seen him much at Hogwarts.

"Lyla?" He asked, wondering what this was about.

"C'mon," she said, latching her other hand onto his and dragging him alongside Albus.

"Al?" Rose called, breaking away from their conversation on Muggle magic. "What's going on?"

Al shook his head at his cousin and Myles sighed in resignation as he was pulled along. Things always got messy when Lyla was involved. Messy, but interesting.

The three Ravenclaws followed, continuing their conversation as their curiosity drug them along, as well as Lyla's close Gryffindor friends, Alissa and Elias. A number of the Slytherin first-years were curious at their new Quidditch player being drug off but none of them were willing to follow Lyla. They entered the castle and pulled inside an unused classroom, of which Hogwarts had no shortage.

"What is it, Lyla?" Myles asked, as Al pulled his arm free from Lyla as took a step back.

"Al's hurt," she declared.

"I'm fine," Al defended.

"And he's hiding it," Lyla finished.

"What happened, Al?" Rose asked, approaching and reaching out the familiarity of close family.

"Nothing," Al protested, blocking Rose's arms and retreating. Lyla took advantage of the distraction to dart forward and pull off one of his gloves. He yelped in surprise and Lyla poked him in the side. Al reached for his side in pain and Lyla pulled of his remaining glove as she stepped back.

"Agh!" Al exclaimed, putting a healthy amount of distance between himself and the crazed Gryffindor witch. "What was that for?"

"Al! Your hands!" Rose approached Al again, this time catching him in a corner and forcing him to show her his hands.

"Bloody Merlin, Al! You've got to go to Pomfrey." Elias said, looking at Al's hands with the rest of the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws. "What were you doing? Riding a thorned broom?"

"I'm fine!" Al insisted, beginning to feel ambushed by the group of first-years. He pulled his hand back and immediately regretted it as the flash of pain from his side turned his vision momentarily black. Rose fussed over Al. Elias tried to convince Al to lift his robes so he could see the bruises on his side, though Myles didn't know whether this was out of concern or curiosity. Kory was watching and continuing the conversation on Muggle magic with Alexa and he somehow brought Alissa into the conversation as well. But Lyla was looking at Myles expectantly, and he realized what she had intended by dragging him here.

"I don't know, Lyla," Myles said hesitantly. "I've only ever healed a couple of scratches and Scufy's leg."

"You've got it Myles." She gave him the same look she'd given him in Dueling Club, the one that held absolute faith that he would succeed. Myles couldn't say no to that, even if he held only a shred of her confidence in himself.

"You need to go to the infirmary, Al!" Rose argued, her voice rising in frustration at her stubborn cousin.

"He doesn't need to go to Pomfrey. Myles can heal him," Lyla interjected, drawing a skeptical look from Rose.

"Myles doesn't know healing spells," Rose said incredulously. "The only students Pomfrey takes are handpicked, and none of them are first years."

"He does," Lyla insisted. "He healed Scufy when I took him to Beth's Healing."

Rose looked at Myles, both skeptical and impressed.

"I can heal his hands at least," Myles said, knowing that healing Al's hurt side would be a much harder task. "Let me see them."

Al's hands were covered by a number of small scrapes with a few deeper cuts that would take time to heal. Scabs had formed overnight, which was good for natural healing but not so much for magical healing. Ms. Lenore would've healed the cuts under the scabs and they would've fallen painlessly off. Myles, on the other hand, might trap the scabs under Al's skin if he tried it.

"I have to remove the scabs first; it'll hurt," Myles told Al, a question in his eyes. The Slytherin first-year with messy dark auburn hair and hazel eyes looked at him uncertainly. They'd never even spoken to each other outside of their brief meeting at Floureance's Ice Cream Parlor. But after a moment Al gave him a nod and told him to go ahead.

"Bogare," Myles cast on the first of Al's hands. The scabs melted away and blood flowed through the open wounds. It had to hurt, but Al barely flinched as he watched the scabs dissolve on his hand.

"Augmenti." Water washed away the remnants of the scabs and fell to the ground tainted red by blood.

Elias and Lyla watched with morbid fascination while Rose and Alissa watched uncomfortably. Alexa looked on with a intellectual curiosity, and Kory simply averted his eyes. Myles had never been bothered or fascinated by blood. It was simply a fact of life, a physical resource and occasionally a magical one.

"Nits," Myles finally cast. Healing charms were simple enough when cast on a clean singular cut, but healing a number of cuts, all of different shapes and depths, required a deal of finesse and practice. Which, Myles was proud to say, he had performed the charm with; the skin and tissues of Al's hand knit themselves neatly together, leaving the hand looking as good as ever, if a bit pink in spots.

Al flexed his hand, clenching and unclenching it, before looking up at Myles with a slight grin. "Wicked."

"Right wicked, mate," Elias agreed, moving forward to inspect Al's freshly healed hand.

"It's nothing impressive," Myles said with a flushed face. "Anyone could do it."

"No they couldn't," Rose said seriously. "Most Hogwarts graduates only learn the very basics and there's a reason Pomfrey only takes a few students; healing takes control and discipline. A single mistake on any spell more complex than Nits could be disastrous. The worst in St. Mungo's are from Dark Magic and failed healing charms.

"Yeah..." Elias said slowly in the awkward silence that followed. "That's a mood kill, Rose."

"Myles knows what he's doing. Ms. Lenore taught him," Lyla vouched for him with certainty.

Rose acquiesced. "Myles has clearly done this before, otherwise I'd never agree to him healing Al."

"Well..." Myles said into another awkward silence. "I'd only ever healed myself and Scufy before."

"And you decided to practice on Al?" Rose asked, quickly growing angry. Myles had seen Rose get angry before, she was surprisingly fierce and determined when riled up, but never at him.

"Chill," Elias said. "Every healer has to have cast their spells a first time."

"Yes, under supervision." Rose emphasized incredulously.

"Myles has healed under supervision before. Ms. Lenore had him heal Scufy," Lyla explained.

"Scufy is a cat!" Rose exclaimed. "Al is a wizard! There's a difference!"

"Rose," Al said, holding up his healed hand. "You said yourself he 'clearly knows what he's doing.'"

Rose harrumphed, crossing her arms and looking at them, but particularly Myles, with a contemptuous and disapproving air. It made Myles uncomfortable but Elias and Al were unperturbed, likely a result of family ties, and Lyla was hardly likely to be bothered by something as tame as a glare.

"Heal his other hand," Lyla insisted.

Myles repeated the steps on Al's still torn hand. Despite Rose's eyes burning holes in the back of Myles's robes, healing Al's hand went without a hitch.

"Thanks," Al said, smiling at his hands and then at Myles. "I owe you one."

"You're welcome," Myles replied, his cheeks flushed from the attention of the gathered first-years. He could understand why Ms. Lenore had become a healer: the satisfaction of flesh knitting back together, of the body's function being restored, and of the smile at the end of it. It would, however, be more enjoyable without a very fierce aura of disappointment hovering by him.

"Let's count ourselves lucky that no one suffered permanent injury this time," Rose said in a scathing voice.

Myles didn't know what to say and he held off voicing his annoyance. He didn't understand how she was angrier with him than he'd seen her, even when dealing with Tor's bullying, and Myles was healing. She had a point, Al would be in better hands with Pomfrey, but he hadn't asked to be the one to heal his hands.

"Back off Rose," Al told her. "You can leave if you don't want to be here." Rose harrumphed and stormed out of the classroom, shooting a look at Kory, who gave Myles a shrug as he followed her out the door. Myles expected an awkward silence to follow the confrontation, but Elias continued on like nothing had happened.

"Show us your chest Al," Elias grinned. "I bet you've got some sick bruises."

"I'm not taking my robes off here," Al said, his eyes flitting self consciously between Lyla, Alexa, and Alissa.

"Don't wanna show off for the ladies?" Elias grinned at Al's obvious discomfort. "Well, clear out then! Ickle Al needs his privacy!"

Lyla was reluctant to leave, but the girls cleared out of the classroom so they could continue. Despite their absence, Al still looked uncomfortable when he took off his robes and stood before them bare-chested and in long white underwear. His side was a mural of dark and blotted bruises. Myles didn't have much experience in diagnosing and healing, but even he could clearly see that Al likely had broken or fractured ribs.

Ms. Lenore had taught him one simple diagnostic spell, and he cast it now, holding his wand over the worst of the bruises. There was no clear and simple response. No green or red light shinning to indicate the state of his body. Rather, it was a reverberating signal that his wand picked up, traces of magical energy returning after bouncing off bones and tissue. Ms. Lenore had been pleasantly surprised at Myles's quick progress with the spell, but Myles could only decipher the roughest and blurriest image from it.

"Take a deep and slow breath." Myles's voice, distracted as he was by the work at hand, took a commanding tone.

Al followed his instruction and Lyla choose this moment to reenter the classroom. She barged in, followed, in a much quieter manner, by a curious Alexa and a slightly guilty and definitely embarrassed Alissa. Al, surprised by interruption and all too aware of his barely clothed self, sharply finished his inhalation. He gasped at the pain and exhaled all at once, a reaction that only caused more pain.

Myles shot a look at Lyla, who had the grace to look abashed if not regretful, for her untimely entrance and handed Al's dropped robes back to him. "Two of your ribs are fractured. I think. You'll have to go to Madam Pomfrey after all; I can't heal it." Well, Myles thought he could, but Rose had had a point and he wasn't willing to take the risk.

"I'll be fine," Al replied, his flushed cheeks and recent embarrassment taking the authority out of his confident words. "I don't need to go to the Infirmary."

Rose would have argued and demanded that he visit Pomfrey, but Rose wasn't in the classroom and it was Alexa that provided a suggestion. "What about a potion? We wouldn't be able to make Skele-Gro, but there are other potions."

"Maybe the Red-Regrow Potion? Most of the ingredients are in open cabinet. We could each sneak a little bit of earlswang, ginger, and corsroot out tomorrow at Potions but we'd have to find the rest elsewhere," Alexa responded, deep in thought as she perused her Potions knowledge. "Let me see the full list."

She pulled out her potions textbook and flipped straight to the back, where potions and their ingredients were listed along with a short description and a reference to the page of the International Potions Repository on which they was detailed. "The open potions cupboard is missing knotgrass, wiggentree bark, and wormwood. We could find knotgrass and wormwood around the grounds, but we'd only be able to find a wiggentree in the Forbidden Forest."

"Let's do it!" Lyla exclaimed. "We can go to the forest tonight and grab the other ingredients tomorrow at Potions!"

"We're not going to the Forbidden Forest at night," Alissa stated firmly, glaring at Elias and Lyla as if daring them to argue.

"You really needn't..." Al began, trailing off as he was completely ignored.

"We'll go during the day then," Elias said grinning at the loophole in Alissa's statement and Lyla's enthusiastic agreement. "Tomorrow at lunch."

Alissa looked like she might argue, but sighed instead and Alexa smiled. "Let's do it."

"This isn't needed!" Al exclaimed, ignored again as Elias and Lyla began to speculate about their adventure into the Forbidden Forest.

Myles gave Al a sympathetic look and shrugged. "I think they've made up their minds."

"You're the only sane on here," Al complained. Myles shrugged again; he wasn't walking around with broken ribs.


End file.
